A Matter of Trust
by clandestinewords
Summary: Lines are redrawn and trust is renegotiated when we admit to ourselves what we need. D/E and B/S. Strong M rating.
1. The Call

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. Although, I assure you that if I did, Damon would be very nude very frequently.**

_So, this is an admittedly short first chapter, but it's also the first chapter of my first story, so I wanted to get a bit of a response before I posted more of what I've got. Not terribly exciting, you and I both know, but it's just a taste, an introduction (if you will) to a very hot story. __M rating__ for smutty, lemony goodness to come (promise)._

_It takes place at the end of Episode 14 ("Fool Me Once"), which left us all hot and bothered and ready for more (what--just me?). Although, here, things went just a tiny bit differently. After Elena brought Jeremy home, she went back to the Salvatore boarding house instead of over to Bonnie's. Because, let's face it, we've got to get this girl alone with a vampire (or two? ; p) somehow. I'd appreciate feedback. I'll post more regardless of whether I'm asked to, but if you want to see more, my ego will be eternally grateful (and ever-growing) if you tell me._

**So let's get this show on the road!**

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Elena sat in front of the fireplace at the Salvatore boarding house, nestled beside Stefan. Her eyes, however, were locked on Damon, who was staring blankly into the fire. She was consumed with a combination of pitiful sorrow and fascination. Bonnie and her grandmother had opened the tomb that evening to find the withered, living corpses of the vampires. Anna left with her mother, but when Damon searched frantically for Katherine, she was nowhere to be found. Stefan had gone in after his brother to save him from being trapped inside for eternity, but only when Elena implored Damon would he calm down and reluctantly follow them out.

She thought then, as she watched the firelight flicker on Damon's beautiful, defeated face, how she was the one who had saved him that evening. Elena turned the other way, resting her head on Stefan's shoulder. He combed his fingers into her soft, dark hair, but still she could only think about Damon, and the bare minimum to which this endeavor had reduced him.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. It was Bonnie. Elena answered. "Bonnie, hi," she said softly. She was answered by uncontrollable sobs. Struggling to understand, Elena tried to calm her down. "Bonnie—what hap—okay, slow—slow down," she managed to eke out amid Bonnie's incoherent weeping.

"It's Grams," Bonnie said, after taking a few deep breaths. "She's not breathing, Elena! I went to wake her up—"

"Oh my god," Elena whispered in disbelief. "Hold on, we're coming," she assured her. "Just call for an ambulance, okay?" Bonnie muttered an affirmation. "We're on our way, Bonnie. It's going to be okay." She hung up the phone.

Stefan and Damon had already heard everything. Stefan got up immediately and headed for the door. Elena quickly followed him. When they reached the door, Stefan stopped her and spoke to her softly.

"Listen, I think you should stay," he told her.

Her chestnut eyes widened. "What? No—no, Stefan," she argued.

Stefan motioned to Damon. "I don't want him alone now, Elena. And if he needs one of us…" he said, and paused, surprised by what he was about to say, "…it's you."

She looked at him. He was right. "But, are you sure it will be… okay?"

"It will be fine," he assured her, cupping her face in his hands. "I trust him," he admitted—both to Elena and to himself—honestly. "I know you trust him too."

She looked away for a moment, feeling as though she'd been caught or found out somehow. But she turned back to Stefan and nodded. He kissed her on her forehead, letting his lips linger there for a moment—he always lingered for a moment before leaving her. "I love you," he whispered against her skin.

Elena closed her eyes, feeling a tinge of guilt, though she wasn't sure exactly why. "I love you too," she whispered back. And with that he was gone.

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_As I said, more to come. __**Reviews**_ _are welcome, wanted, wonderful, wobbly, w... you get the idea._


	2. Confessions and Realizations

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. I am merely a satisfied customer : )**

_Hey guys. Thanks so much for the reviews--I was glad to get support for my first published chapter on the site! Again, I know the first chapter was short, but it really wasn't meant to do much more than set everything up. This one has a bit more to it, but don't get your hopes up for lemons QUITE yet... Though I will promise you that this is the last chapter without it. I also promise that the next chapter will be longer. Hope you guys continue to enjoy the story. I originally wrote this chapter, hell, this STORY, quite differently. This chapter (namely, the dialogue between Elena & Damon) got a major re-haul. I think my original draft was a little too OOC. I assure you that this is significantly better. _

**Enough of the blah-blah-blah. Here's Chapter 2!**

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She turned back toward Damon. He hadn't moved at all—he sat there like stone. She walked to him and sat down beside him on the couch. As she sat there, her head swam with the thoughts of his dark, ruffled hair and his strong, fierce embrace. When her eyes wandered to his perfectly red lips, she instinctively moistened her own. But when she saw his sad, pale blue eyes, she forced herself to snap out of it. She remembered; he _needed_ her.

She felt guilty about her dwindling concern for Grams, but she knew that there wasn't anything she could do for her. She also knew she should be with her best friend. But she couldn't dwell on it. After all, she had tried to go with Stefan, and he had insisted that she remain here, with Damon. And though she was pleased to be there for him, the sight of him in such desolation had her in agony.

The two of them sat there in silence for a while. Elena kept glancing at him, wanting him to speak. He always had something to say, especially to her. At the same time, though, she reveled in the unfamiliar silence between them. She couldn't help but be proud that he could be like this with her. Still, she felt she should say something.

"You're going to be okay," she offered quietly.

His eyes shut and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly into some sort of pained smile as he exhaled a trace of a laugh. He shook his head. "No I'm not, Elena," he muttered.

She wanted him to understand that he didn't need Katherine. He wasn't perfect—lord, was he far from perfect—but he deserved better, Elena was convinced. "Damon…" He looked up at her. "She never came for you, through all those years. Is she really worth it?" she asked honestly.

The tiny trace of a grin melted away as he turned to look back toward the fire. "No."

She could hardly believe her ears. "What?" she reacted.

He leaned back. "She's not," he admitted, almost matter-of-factly. He turned to face her and found she was gawking at him with disbelief. "I know that, Elena," said Damon. "I've known that…" he trailed off a little, and glanced down at his hands in his lap. The absence of his usual cockiness was simultaneously a relief and a worry to Elena.

She sat thinking for a moment, and then shook her head, as if suddenly processing what he'd just said. "I don't understand," she frowned. "If she wasn't worth it then why have you been fighting so hard to get to her?" Her eyes widened and her tone grew in severity. "For God's sake, Damon—you were threatening to kill me at your father's grave! And now all you can do is shrug and say that she isn't worth it?" She was getting angry now.

Damon sighed. Though she wasn't aware, he was trying desperately to come up with the words to explain it to her. He tried looking up at her several times, but whenever his eyes caught her helpless, angry stare, he was overcome with a sort of heaviness. It might have been guilt, but he had spent so many years free of that feeling, he wouldn't have recognized it. "Elena," he began, staring at the fire, "I wasn't—" he stopped short. He had to choose his words carefully.

"What?" she demanded, growing impatient.

He turned his gaze toward her slightly. Not to her eyes—no, he couldn't face those just yet—but to her hand where it rested beside her thigh. It was so delicate. He remembered the feeling of her lean arms wrapped around him earlier that evening, just after they'd left the tomb. It was an unfamiliar feeling from Elena—the use of her hands and arms to embrace him, instead of to fight him away. He longed to reach for her slender, olive fingers—to feel the warmth of her touch again. But he fought the urge. "I wasn't going to kill you, Elena… Nothing is worth that," he finally admitted sincerely.

She didn't know what to say. The anger immediately abandoned her eyes. She was… touched. She leaned toward him and placed her hand lightly on his knee without realizing it. "Damon…" she cooed sympathetically.

The touch of Elena's hand sent a painful longing through him. He tried to pick up where he'd left off. "I realized a while ago that I didn't truly want Katherine anymore," he explained. "…And shortly after that, I realized that I couldn't have what I truly _did _want."

There was despair in Damon's voice. It seemed he had come to the realization that he would never be happy—that he would never be able to have what he wanted. But there was hopefulness in Elena's voice as she spoke—though she tried to hide it. "You still haven't told me why you kept looking for her."

He shook his head and smiled slightly. "Come on, Elena," said Damon. "I've spent my whole life—er—death looking for her." His joke relaxed them both.

"So what?" she asked.

"Elena," he said sternly, finally meeting her gaze. "Don't do this, okay? Don't make me go through all of it."

She feigned confusion. She wasn't trying to torture him—she really wasn't. But she needed to hear him _say_ what she hoped he meant. "Damon. Just tell me."

Damon looked at her and sighed. He supposed it was time to level with her. "Elena," he began, turning his body fully toward her. She turned so that her body was facing him. They stared into each other's eyes in an unspoken understanding: all of his cards were going on the table now. He spoke slowly, choosing each word carefully.

"When I met you, I wanted you." She fought back a smile at this thought, though it sent a wonderful wave of warmth over her. She wanted to hear him out, uninterrupted. "I wanted you… because I thought that there was somehow… a part of Katherine in you. I guess I thought that I had somehow finally found her. Then I really got to know you," he continued, "and I saw just how different from Katherine you truly are. And it kind of… hurt. It was like she was being torn away from me again. I thought that all the differences between the two of you would push me further to Katherine… but, instead…" he trailed off for a moment. "…Instead, they pulled me closer to you."

Elena savored his words. She was breathless. His blue eyes were mesmerizing as they sparkled with reflections of the fire. She opened her mouth to say something, to echo his sentiments, but nothing came to her.

He spoke again. "From then on, I wanted you more and more every day—hell, every moment—but I knew I couldn't have you. So I decided there was only one choice… to keep searching for Katherine… hoping that, when I found her, there would be some trace of _you_ in _her_." He saw a touch of doubt in her eyes. "Elena," he said, taking her chin in his hand. He paused a moment to appreciate how soft she was, how fragile… "I'm telling you the truth right now. I know it might not sound like it, but that's what it is."

Elena swallowed hard at the touch of his hand. "So…" she started softly, "you feel for me the way you felt for Katherine?" She said it as a means of processing the information for herself, rather than as a question to Damon, but he answered it anyway.

"No," Damon interjected. "I feel so much differently for you than I did for her. I feel _more_ for you. Elena, with you… it's real. It almost—" he paused, unsure of whether he should divulge this last confession.

She begged him to with her eyes. "What, Damon?" she asked him, her breath growing shaky with anticipation.

"You make me feel something I haven't felt in over a century, Elena." His hand found hers and he held onto it gently, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "You make me feel… _human_."

***

Stefan followed the ambulance as best he could, but eventually the flashing lights sped off too quickly. As he continued to the hospital, his mind was surprisingly clear. He wasn't worried about Elena—she was fine with Damon. He trusted Damon. He smiled to himself a little at the absurdity of the thought, but nevertheless it was true. He wasn't worried about Damon. Damon wouldn't hurt her.

He couldn't even bring himself to be particularly worried about Sheila. He was saddened of course—he'd known her years ago, and he almost wanted to call her a friend. She certainly acted as a friend to him recently. She had trusted him after he helped Bonnie. But even through the sadness, he knew there was nothing to be done. Sheila was very old, and she had just used all that she had left to help him. He was grateful, and he was saddened. But he wasn't worried about Sheila. What was done was done.

One worry did, however, plague his mind; he was worried about Bonnie. She had been through so much, and Sheila had been the one to guide her. Now she was lost. When Stefan had arrived at her house earlier, she hastily invited him inside and threw herself into his arms. She was inconsolable. He had held her until the ambulance arrived, her head pressed against his chest. He listened to her heart-breaking, muffled sobs.

When he arrived at the hospital, he tracked her down and saw her sitting in a waiting room. He took a seat beside her. She had regained her composure slightly but her brown eyes were tired from crying, her lids swollen, mascara smeared on her flushed cheeks. He took advantage of the calm to talk to her for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Elena wanted to come, you know," he told her softly. "I told her to stay with Damon. I didn't want him alone, and I knew that he needed her more than me."

Bonnie sniffed. "It's alright. I'm just glad you're here." Stefan didn't know exactly what she meant, but he agreed. He was glad to be there for her. "I don't want to be alone tonight, Stefan," Bonnie said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

He opened his phone to send a text message to Elena. He put his phone back into his pocket. He stretched an arm around Bonnie's shoulder and held onto her arm. "Alright," he told her. "I'm not going anywhere."

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_Again, your **reviews **were LOVELY, so keep 'em coming! They make me, how you say, felicísimo._


	3. Real

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters, much to my dismay. You know the show would not meet the TV-14 rating if I did ("Can you imagine such a world?" I add, fanning myself).**

_The response to this story has really been motivating. I appreciate the support so much. I'm so glad that everyone seems to like what I've done so far, and I know you've been patiently waiting for the steamy. And, loyal readers, the time for the steamy has come (cue applause). This chapter is a lot longer than the first two. And if you'll recall, this is my first story on the site, so this very chapter that you are about to read will be my first published attempt at lemons. I can't promise you it will be the best you've read, but I really did try. I also want to thank **Angel's blue eyed girl**, author of **Aftershocks** and **Fool For Love**, for some FANTASTICALLY hot inspiration. Jenna, you are my FF idol, as it were--I love your work. I was also recently inspired by re-watching "Bloodlines," and the D/E chemistry practically flowed out of the screen and set my whole dorm on fire. Has anyone realized that I tend to ramble in A/Ns?_

**Without further ado, let's get this party started.**

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"_Human…_" the word was beautiful on Damon's lips. She closed her eyes and let it echo in her ears. A smile came to her. Elena knew, at last, how Damon truly felt about her, and it was more wonderful than she could have imagined.

He had taken both of her hands in his by then, and he silently treasured the feeling of her soft skin against his. His thumbs traveled across the backs of her hands, her knuckles, her fingers, savoring every touch as he awaited a response. When he saw her eyes open, he was entranced. She looked so happy as she was leaning toward him. His pulse raced with anticipation. He moistened his red lips, his eyes locked on hers. Elena was just inches from him, and Damon felt a warmth that had been sleeping inside him for a hundred years awaken.

As if on some sort of sick cue, they both felt the vibration of her cell phone against the couch. Elena's head dropped. She reluctantly peered at the screen to see that she had a new text message. "It's from Stefan," she said hesitantly, afraid to look up at him. She heaved a woeful sigh and opened the message. She read it aloud. "'At the hospital. Bonnie's shaken up. Think I should stay. You alright to stay there tonight?'"

She was already replying to Stefan when Damon spoke. "You can go. I'll be fine."

Elena looked up into his eyes. "Damon," she said softly, "I'm not going anywhere." She sent the text and tossed her phone onto the chair where she and Stefan had sat earlier.

Damon crooked a hopeful smile. "What did you say to Stefan?"

She stared at him longingly. "I told him I'll be fine," she said slowly, "…and that you need me." She paused. "Was I right?"

A smile appeared across his lips. "You have no idea," he said in a confident, familiar voice that sent a thrilling shiver through Elena's body.

Elena moved toward him with purpose and pushed him backward forcefully. He let out a soft moan at the long awaited feeling of her body pressed against his. She lay on top of him and brought her mouth down to his. Everything slowed down for a moment as they reveled in the feeling they had both spent so long silently pining for. She drew her lips back for a moment. She waited for his eyes to open and locked his gaze as she confessed to him, just as he had. "I need you too, Damon."

He pulled her against him and groaned at the thought that it was finally a reality—Elena, willingly in his arms. No compelling, no vampire-strength force, not even a phony line—she was his in this moment, by her own choice. The feeling was incredible. She was _his_. His mind struggled to comprehend the sensation of all of her pressing against all of him.

Then Elena sat up. She flipped her hair over one shoulder and her fingers made their way to the back of her neck, fumbling with the clasp of her necklace. Damon watched in awe as she unfastened the chain and dropped it, the cold, vervain-filled charm falling to the floor. She smiled and lowered herself onto him again.

Her soft, warm cheek brushed against his as she moved her lips to his ear. "Now it's real," she whispered and began nibbling on his earlobe. He gasped silently at the sensation of her warm breath, and then her teeth, on his ear. Her mouth moved down, trailing soft but urgent kisses down his neck. He inhaled deeply, and was overwhelmed by her scent—her hair, her skin, her blood. Her soft, moist kisses grew more intense. She had him breathing deeper and deeper and he never wanted this feeling to end. He never wanted this feeling to end. _He never wanted this feeling to end_. The thought echoed in his mind.

Suddenly, he realized the gravity of the situation. "Wait," he managed to eke out between fervent kisses, but Elena was relentless. He almost second-guessed himself, but then he figured he'd come this far. He'd already put everything on the line to make this honest. He couldn't stop now. "Wait!" he said more forcefully and pushed her off of him. He stood up and anxiously paced back and forth.

Elena sat there on the couch, feeling rejected. "…Why?" she asked him, her brow furrowed in a combination of disappointment, confusion, and slight humiliation.

Damon looked at her and saw how hurt she was. "It isn't you," he insisted. "I don't know if _I_ can do it."

Elena stared at him with disbelief. The suggestion was laughable. "What? Of course you can!"

He stood by the fireplace. "No, that's not what I mean… I just," he paused, "I don't think I can just do this once." He put his arm on the mantle and leaned against it.

Elena frowned. She hadn't really thought about what might happen after this. She got up from the couch and walked over to him. "Damon," she stood behind him and put her arms around his waist, letting her head rest on his shoulder blade as she thought seriously about the situation.

His head fell forward in regret. She had been his, and he'd let her slip through his fingers. At the same time, he couldn't bring himself to truly regret stopping it. He wanted this to be real. He turned to face her. They stood there, in front of the fireplace, her arms still around his waist.

Elena's mind was racing. She would never be able to make a decision, she thought. She pitted the brothers against one another in her mind over and over again and was still left with a fickle uncertainty, until she realized the most important thing.

"Damon," she repeated, and took his face in her hands. "I said it before; _I need you_." It was true, and once she had said it, it all became infinitely clear. He brought out the humanity in her just as she had awakened it in him. He filled her with a feeling of independence despite her aching need for him. She worked volumes of words over in her mind before finally forming the perfect expression. "When we're together, I get the sensation of really, truly _living_." She saw his eyes smile, telling her that he knew exactly what she meant. "I want to be with you."

The words warmed his whole body. He felt his natural confidence returning rapidly, and was overwhelmed with the urge to throw her down and take her right there. But of course, there was plenty of time to be spent making love ahead, and he planned to take full advantage of it. He also needed to ask her one more thing to be sure that she had really made her choice. "And what about Stefan?"

Her expression didn't break—she glanced at him hungrily. "I care about Stefan… but, Damon… I don't _need_ him."

A cocky grin crawled across his mouth and he raised his eyebrows as she'd seen him do a thousand times before. He moved in so that their lips were just touching. "I'm going to make this last," he whispered against her barely open mouth. He kissed her lightly, pulling her against him by her hips so that his thigh was nestled between hers. The sudden contact coaxed a tiny moan from her. But that was all it took.

Upon hearing that moan, every part of Damon reacted. Elena felt him instantly harden against her leg, and when she looked up at him, she noticed his head tilted back, eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. Then all at once, he'd swept her off her feet and just as she realized how quickly they were moving, they were in Damon's room. He switched the light on—he didn't want to miss a moment of this—before he pushed her down onto the bed and climbed on top of her. As he drove his tongue into her mouth, one of his hands moved under her shirt to feel her bare, smooth stomach.

Elena pushed him up to unbutton his black collared shirt. She ran her hands across his bare, sculpted chest as he sat up, straddling her. He pulled the shirt from his body and threw it to the floor, then leaned back down to kiss her again and she dug her fingernails into his back. He began thrusting himself against her, his clothed erection pushing over and over against her groin. He was trying so hard to pace himself but it felt as though he couldn't have her fast enough. He spoke between thrusts, breathlessly. "Elena… you have no… no idea… how… long… how long I've… waited… for this…"

She moaned, and he pulled her up, tearing off her long-sleeved shirt. He kissed her down her neck to her collarbone as he reached around to the clasp of her bra and unhooked it deftly. He cast the garment aside and sat back for a moment, mesmerized by her naked breasts, as she lay back on the bed again. "You're so beautiful," he told her sincerely, in the midst of his eager, lustful onslaught. He took one of her breasts into his mouth with haste and traced around her nipple with his tongue while he massaged the other with his hand.

He began a trail of kisses from the skin between her breasts down to her belly button, and then dragged his tongue from her navel to the top of her very low-rise jeans. She threw her head back and her eyes were shut in rapture. He wasn't surprised. After all, he'd had well over a hundred years of practice… but this time, it really _mattered_. He wanted to give her all he had.

His fingers made their way to the top of her jeans and traced along her skin, moving slightly underneath the denim behind the button.

"Please," Elena moaned, making his hard-on throb inside his jeans. He undid the button and slid the zipper down, and she lifted up her hips so that he could pull them down, which he did—slowly. She licked her lips as she felt her jeans come down her thighs, past her knees, over her feet, until finally they fell to the floor. Damon took in the sight of her nearly naked body, only covered by a little pair of pastel pink panties. He knelt down before her and stared up to catch her eye. She looked down at him between her thighs and breathed heavily, and he couldn't help but smirk.

His stare moved down again, and he looked at the thin, pink cotton to see that it was already wet with her desire. He moved his face closer, and she groaned when she felt his cheek against her thigh. He brushed his lips across her panties and sighed, and the tingling sensation of his breathy touch on her soaking mound forced a barely-muffled cry from her lips. "Damon…" One of her hands found its way to the back of his head and her fingers twisted into his hair, while the other searched for something to brace herself.

Damon took a moment to keep his composure, but she smelled amazing, and he needed to taste her. He pulled her underwear down and she gasped as she became fully exposed to him—there was something wildly fulfilling about giving her naked body to Damon. He nestled his head between her thighs and reveled in the sight before him. He lifted a finger and stroked between her wet folds. Elena whimpered.

His head was swimming as he tried to comprehend that this was reality—she was truly laid out before him, begging him to take her. He let his finger slip away and moved his lips slowly toward her center. She heaved desperately in anticipation. She felt his breath on her folds and even more wetness seeped from her. She couldn't take it anymore.

She got a firm hold on his hair and thrust him by the back of his head toward her, and still the feeling of his mouth made her shriek with pleasure. Damon closed his eyes and savored her taste. He groaned against her before remembering exactly what he was doing.

"My god," he told her, "you taste incredible." He spread her legs with his hands and assaulted her cunt with his tongue. He let it wiggle around her soft opening, and then he brought his teeth down gently on her clit.

Trying to gain enough composure to speak, she managed to respond, "You… you _feel_… incredi—" she was caught off guard when he drove a finger deep into her. "Oh, fuck!" she cried out. Her crude reaction only turned him on more. He moved his finger in and out of her, slowly at first, and then rapidly. All the while his tongue was lapping away at her throbbing bundle of nerves. "Oh my god…" she whispered breathlessly.

He looked up at her gorgeous little mouth and couldn't stop himself from climbing up to her. When he kissed her with vigorous force, she was surprised by his mouth, still wet with her juices. He pulled away a few inches from her face and licked his lips, moaning a satisfied "Mmm…"

Her recently abandoned opening ached for his touch. "Don't stop," she whimpered. "_Please_."

He smirked and propped himself up on his elbow, lying beside her. He brought his hand back down to her hot, sweet folds and drove his finger into her again, followed by another. His thumb found her bud and worked it with the expertise of a hundred years' experience. She writhed beneath him, her hips bucking against his hand. He could hardly stand it, watching her react to his every touch. He needed to have her, and as her hand found its way to his bulging erection, still confined to his jeans, he couldn't wait. "Oh god, Elena…" he groaned as she stroked his stiff member. "I have to fuck you," he said without really meaning to—though it was true, nevertheless.

Elena smiled a playful, naughty grin. "Mm-mm," she argued with a shake of her head.

He stared at her, astonished and confused. "Excuse me?" he said suspiciously.

She rolled him over onto his back. "I'm going to fuck _you_," she said, determined, as she unzipped his jeans and began to pull them down. The thrill of being with Damon, the romance, the teasing… the sensation of truly living… It had taken her over.

He couldn't believe it—Elena taking control, _demanding_ to ride him, unprovoked. He had been so ready to push himself into her that he was almost disappointed, and considered fighting back. But then, Damon felt an incredible sense of arousal in letting the control, as well as his jeans and boxer-briefs, slip away. "Elena…" he murmured as his eyes closed in elated anticipation.

Her eyes widened at the sight of his erect cock—he was _big_. He looked down at her and smirked at the sight of her hungry stare. Elena gripped his length firmly. Damon threw his head back and shut his eyes as she worked his shaft slowly, bringing her moist mouth down to the head. She took him into her mouth, her head bobbing up and down slowly and smoothly. He placed his palm on the back of her head and followed her rhythm. Her tongue swirled around his unrelenting shaft.

He bit his lip, trying to stifle the constant groan escaping him. He glanced down at her and watched as she swallowed him repeatedly. She increased her speed, struggling not to gag on his thick cock, and continued until she heard him heave a desperate sigh.

Elena climbed on top of him and straddled his stomach. She was aching to be filled. She kissed him softly on the lips and smirked at him, backing her groin slowly to his tip. He shivered. "Yes," he hissed greedily. She lifted her hips up and propped up his hungry cock so that the tip was brushing against her folds. She sighed at the feeling, and looked longingly at him. He tried to push up into her.

"Not so fast," she said with a smile.

His starving blue eyes peered up at her. "You have _got _to be kidding me."

"What is it that you want?" she asked, smiling coyly. The corners of his lips turned up at the challenge, and he tried to push up into her again. "No, Damon," she said condescendingly. "You have to tell me."

He growled at her ravenously. "Fuck me," he told her.

She should have submitted, of course, but she was beginning to enjoy his helplessness. She wanted to test the boundaries. She feigned miscommunication. "I'm sorry… _What _was it?"

Damon couldn't stand it any longer. "Fuck me!" he demanded with such intensity that became slightly worried his fangs would peek out. The urgency in his order pushed her over the edge. She thrust herself down, driving his cock into her. He held onto her hips and grunted at the sensation of being inside her. "Oh, shit!" he cried, the feeling nearly having sent him into shock. He couldn't even bring himself to push back; he was in utter ecstasy.

Elena moved herself up and down his pole, slowly at first. She wanted so badly to remain in ultimate control—the sight of him, lying there, helpless, was so wildly erotic that she didn't want to reveal any sign of vulnerability. But she still couldn't stifle her whimpering, no matter how badly she wanted to. His length felt incredible as it filled her. "Oh, Damon," she moaned, softly at first, but then her sounds grew louder. "Oh, oh, _god_!" she nearly shouted.

And that was enough for him to push up into her. He met her thrust for thrust, bucking his hips against her delicate groin. Damon studied her with fascination. Her head was thrown back, her long dark hair framing her neck and shoulders. She rode him harder and faster, her breasts bouncing with every move. He felt the desire for control once again, and as she continued to cry out, he felt the strength necessary to take it. "That's enough," he said with a grin as he pulled her off of him with ease. She was gasping for air as though she'd been so worked up, she'd forgotten to breathe.

His aggressive action took her by surprise, so much so that she struggled to utter a coherent sentence as he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at her naked form as she rose to kneel before him. "Keep going" she finally managed to eke out.

Not yet, he thought. Her turn was over. He leered at her, heaving lustful breaths. "You want it?" he asked her, eyes rapidly moving up and down her gorgeous body. "You'd better tell me," he ordered hungrily, turning her own game against her.

"I want it, Damon," she moaned, rubbing her hands against her thighs. "I _need_ it…"

He leaned forward and traced his fingers along her hipbones. "Turn around," he demanded, now brushing his fingers past her mound. She bit her bottom lip eagerly as she complied. He looked at her, struggling to stay upright. He placed a hand on her soft, smooth back, just between her shoulder blades, and guided her gently forward. He watched her as she got down on all fours, waiting for him. "You're going to want to hold on to something," he advised her. And he was serious—he wasn't going to hold back.

"Damon," she whimpered as she crawled forward and took hold of the antique headboard. He climbed onto the bed and knelt upright. He was right behind her, and she could feel the heat of his body behind her own.

She couldn't see his mischievous grin. "What is it that you need, Elena?" he asked her seductively as he slowly ran a finger down her spine.

The light touch sent a shiver over her body. She moaned and spread her legs. "You," she whined.

"You're going to have to do better than that, Elena," he teased her. She pouted and was about to whine for him to stop with his games when he pressed the head of his hard shaft against her opening.

She had no objection to begging now. "Oh, god!" she cried, almost helplessly. "Fuck me, Damon!"

Of course, he obliged. He pushed his cock into her once again, and she responded like he'd never heard her before. Her moans had tripled in volume and intensity, only occasionally forming words. The sound of her voice filling the old house only fueled the fire inside him. He pumped himself into her over and over, hands grasping her hips firmly and pulling her to meet each thrust.

She began to shudder, and the feeling of her convulsing around his dick was pushing him over the edge. As the feeling built inside him he struggled to stay standing. He bent forward, his chest pressing to her back, and grabbed the headboard just beside her hand. His other hand wrapped around her, and his middle finger eagerly manipulated her swollen clit.

It was only then that she was able to speak instead of moan again. "Oh, Damon," she wailed. She repeated the name over and over again as her toes curled and she grabbed Damon's hand. Her knuckles were white as she held on, and the feeling was burning inside her.

"Come on, baby," he demanded, thrusting into her forcefully. "Come for me." When it hit her, it was like lightning. Her whole body tightened as she screamed his name a final time. Moments later, Damon grunted, "Fuck… Fuck, Elena… Oh my god…" He gritted his teeth and let his hand fall to the mattress beneath her. He moaned as he pushed into her forcefully, stopping short as he emptied himself into her. "Oh, Elena…" he whispered through panting breaths, fighting the urge to collapse on top of her. They were nearly limp, and both breathing heavily.

He finally pulled himself out of her and her knees gave out beneath her. She let go of the headboard and his hand and lay on the bed, and he lowered himself to lie beside her. It felt as though their bodies were steaming. She turned and nestled herself against him as he shifted to lie on his back, her leg draped over his, her arm across his chest, her face between his shoulder and his neck.

Elena reveled in the feeling as a wave of fatigue took her over. There were a million things she wanted to say, but she knew somehow they all went without saying—at least for right now. She breathed in his scent as she drifted to sleep.

Damon held her in his arm. He turned his head and pressed his lips to her hairline. He could think of plenty of things to say too, but he opted to settle for the one that seemed the most fitting at the moment.

"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered against her forehead as he shut his eyes.

***

Stefan's car pulled into Sheila's driveway. He turned off the engine and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for Bonnie. She rose to her feet, her face tired and tear-stained.

The doctor's words were echoing in her mind. "I'm so sorry," he had said. "There's nothing more we can do for your grandmother." Bonnie's whole body had begun to ache, and she had broken down again in the hospital. Stefan had pulled her into his embrace and calmed her down after a while. Now that they were at the house, the aching had passed, and Bonnie seemed to have become numb. Stefan put his arm around her shoulder involuntarily—it had become a routine motion over the course of the night.

"Come on," he said, as he guided her to the door, holding her close. He had thought about bringing her to the boarding house for a moment when they were leaving the hospital, but he decided against it almost instantly. He didn't really know why, but here they were, and Stefan knew somehow that he'd made the right choice. He watched her as she opened the door and entered the house. He followed and shut the door behind him, locking it.

She glided up the stairs, and he watched her stop midway to turn to him. "Are you coming?" she asked, looking at him with need.

He nodded, and felt guilty for the tiny smile that the invitation brought him. He climbed the stairs slowly until he reached the step below the one she stood on. She reached her hand out to him and he gently took it. She turned and led him up the stairs and through the hallway to her bedroom.

Bonnie didn't let go of his hand, even when she climbed onto her bed. She pulled him down to lie beside her and burrowed into his arms. They lay there in silence for a while until Bonnie finally said, "You always come for me… even when I don't ask you to." She looked up into his eyes. He nodded, a little nervously. Her hand wandered and she laced her fingers with his. She pressed her lips to his cheek. "Thank you," she said.

He swallowed. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, Bonnie," he said as he turned toward her.

And then he she kissed him. And he wasn't sure if it was pity, or the heat of the moment, or a simple lapse in judgment… but he kissed her back.

* * *

_Gasp! Please keep your wonderful **reviews** coming! They fuel the fire of inspiration, motivation, the Woodstock nation... I think I'm getting carried away._

_Hopefully you won't have to wait too long for Chapter 4, but FF is really quite screwy on my computer and it takes lots of finesse to tame it enough to successfully upload a doc. and publish it._

_Muchas gracias a todos. ¡Lean más, por favor!_


	4. The Dream

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. Nor do I deserve to, considering how long it has taken me to post this chapter : /**

_I AM SO SORRY that it has taken me forever and ever to update. Last week was hell at school. Everything was due at once, and it was just chaos. There's no excuse for the fact that I've been on Spring Break for four days, though. I was struggling to finish this chapter. It was hard to just pick up where I left off. I know this chapter isn't much, but I wanted to give you guys something after your close to 10 days of patience. Not quite the pure lemon-extract from last chapter, but there is a bit of lemon zest here, kids. I'm going to get right down to business and get going on Chapter 5 now. Or maybe tomorrow, since it's 3 A.M. because I am that darn dedicated to you wonderful readers : ) Thanks again for your cooperation, and I will try not to have a 9-day period between chapters again! I'll leave the painful hiatuses (hiati?) to "the Vampire Diaries" television program from now on (only two more weeks until new episodes!)._

_UPDATE (As of 3/18/10): I have changed the chapter a little because, after re-watching "Friday Night Bites," I realize that Bonnie's mom is out of the picture. So, I apologize for the error, and I've fixed it as best as I can. Thanks : )_

**Lights, camera, action!**

* * *

Damon had already been up for an hour or so when he got out of the shower. He walked into his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, to see sunlight pouring through the window. Elena was lying on her stomach, the pale white sheet covering her from just under the small of her back to just above her ankles. He stared her back, at the pattern made by the golden light of the morning sun poking through the trees outside. A breeze shook the branches and the pattern on her back shifted and swirled. He smiled and walked to the bed.

He lay down beside her, propped up on one elbow, and gently brushed a few fallen tresses of dark hair out of her face. She stirred at his touch, and as she drifted into consciousness, she smiled and moved onto her side, facing him. She felt his kiss on her eyelid, the brushing of his nose against hers, and finally he brought his lips to hers. She stretched.

Somewhere inside Damon, there was faint panic, waiting anxiously for her to open her eyes and react to the sight of him. Because some tiny part of him was consumed with a single worry: _she thinks I'm Stefan_.

Elena opened her eyes slowly and they smiled. His whole body relaxed, and his mind was instantly at ease. She raised a hand to his head and ruffled his messy, towel-dried hair. "Morning," she said, her voice still blanketed with sleep. "What time is it?" she asked, pulling him toward her by his shoulders.

He tumbled onto her, suspending himself above her. "About 9:30," he told her as he leaned in for another kiss. She ran her hands along his torso, down to the towel that was still clinging to his waist. She raised an eyebrow at him and pulled the towel away.

He grinned at her as he got hard. There was a sexy satisfaction in her smile. But after a moment, the smile twisted into a frustrated pout. "Maybe you ought to take me home before Stefan gets back."

Damon's smile widened deviously. "Better idea," he said. "Let's just have sex on his bed for a few hours."

She held back laughter. "You're horrible." He smirked and raised his eyebrows. "Come on," she began, "I just a little time to figure out how I'm going to tell him." Damon opened his mouth to interject, but Elena cut him off. "And no, sex on his bed is not going to do the trick," she asserted.

He feigned disappointment. "Alright, tease. Get dressed," he joked as he got up from the bed. She threw a pillow at him playfully. She truly wanted to stay with him and lie naked in bed all day, but she had to tell Stefan before anything. She owed it to him to be honest.

The ride home was pleasant. Damon had one hand on the wheel and the other was holding Elena's. "I love you" was on the tips of their tongues all morning, and all the night before. But they held back. There would be a time for those words, but not yet. When he parked outside her house, he looked around to make sure no one could see them. Then he pulled her in for a deep kiss.

They said goodbye and she watched him drive away.

As soon as she walked in the front door, she went right up to her room with one thought in her mind. She frantically opened her diary to the most recent entry and read over it.

_Dear Diary,_

_ I had a dream last night. It was so vivid… I dreamt that Damon and I were rolling around in my bed, which was made up with these incredible deep blue satin sheets. We were making out, and both naked from the waist up. Then Stefan walked in. He stood at the door and didn't say a word, but he let out a growl as his eyes darkened. He lunged at Damon and pulled him off of me. Stefan hovered over me for a minute, his eyes still dark, and I was worried that he was going to hurt me until he fell onto me and kissed me—hard. He was kissing me all over my neck and shoulders, down my chest, sucking on my nipple… It was amazing, and I was moaning a little. I kept glancing at Damon. He was just sitting there, watching with this horrible pained look in his eyes. Stefan saw that I was looking at Damon, and kept turning my head back toward his, but I couldn't help but keep looking. Then Stefan got more aggressive. He was rough as he tore off the rest of my clothes, and then he immediately pulled his own jeans down, but he didn't take them off. He only pulled them down as far as was needed for what he was going to do next. He spread my thighs apart and looked at me, but only for a moment. He then shot Damon a taunting, boastful look as he shoved himself into me. I gasped, and looked at Damon, expecting him to have turned away by now, but he hadn't. He was still watching, and the expression on his face was like someone watching a car accident. And then I realized he wasn't looking at _us_, he was looking at _me_. And I looked back, and I didn't stop until I realized how hard Stefan was thrusting into me. It was starting to hurt, and suddenly the whole room was red. I tore my eyes away from Damon to look up, and I saw Stefan's dark eyes surrounded by angry red veins. He threw his head back and opened his mouth, showing his fangs. I wanted to speak but I couldn't. He looked down at me again and brought his mouth to my neck._

_ "Stefan," I whimpered. He scraped his fangs across my flesh longingly. "Don't!" I cried as he readied himself to bite me. I shut my eyes and tried to brace myself for the pain, but then I felt Stefan pulled from my body. I opened my eyes to see Damon throw his brother against the wall. The whole room shook and the red drained away, but the silence afterward was like the calm after a storm. Stefan lay on the floor dejected as I looked at him fleetingly. Then my eyes moved to Damon as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide down his hips, followed by his navy boxer-briefs. He walked toward me. He lowered himself onto me slowly and pressed his lips against mine. He pushed himself into me, and all the soreness from Stefan was gone. I stared into his eyes as he thrust into me, and it wasn't long before we were both on the edge._

_ His mouth opened in a silent moan. Finally, he managed a whisper as we came together. "Elena." It was a husky, breathy whisper from his throat, but it sounded like poetry to me. He held me as we both caught our breath. It was only then that I realized Stefan had gone, but I didn't remember him leaving. In fact, I'd forgotten about him the moment I looked away. I didn't dwell on it; I just held on to Damon. He brought his lips to my ear. "I love you," he breathed against it._

_ "I love you too," I replied, my whole body warm. I felt so safe. It was cruel that my mind chose that moment to slip from the dream into consciousness. At first I was confused, feeling around for Damon. Then it dawned on me—it hadn't been real. It hurt. I ached for him. Now I'm trying to decipher whatever it is this dream means. All I can figure is that Damon is saving me from something—something represented by Stefan in the dream. Or… Stefan? But that doesn't make any sense. Why would Damon need to save me from Stefan. Why would _anyone_ need to save me from Stefan? The other thing I can't figure out is why Damon waited so long to intervene. And why did Stefan leave without a trace? I guess I can't worry about it now, though. There's too much going on as it is._

Elena's mind raced. It was beginning to make more sense to her. The first thing she realized was why Damon had watched while Stefan had his way with her; it was because that's exactly what Damon had been doing ever since Stefan arrived in Mystic Falls. Ever since the football game, Damon had just watched as Stefan made Elena happy. It hurt him to do it, she figured, remembering the pain in Damon's eyes in the dream, but nevertheless he stood by and merely observed the relationship, knowing he couldn't do anything about it. Damon only intervened when Stefan was going to hurt her.

He was going to hurt her, but why? She thought about it and came to the conclusion that this symbolized that Stefan was overprotective of her. Damon, on the other hand, let her alone unless she really, truly needed—and even asked for—his help. After all, he had only pulled Stefan off of her after she cried out. She thought back to the night of her accident, when she'd hit the vampire in the road. She'd been stuck in her car, utterly helpless, and Damon had come to her rescue. Yes, she thought, it all makes sense.

But then why had Stefan left? She could only come up with one reason… Stefan must have seen how happy she was with Damon and let her go. He must have seen that she and Damon need each other. So he'll understand, she thought. All the realizations only further motivated her to be honest with Stefan.

She stood up and began to undress. _She_ wanted to tell Stefan; she didn't want the smell of sex, or worse, Damon, reeking from her to tell him. She turned the shower on. As she waited for the water to heat up, she stared at her reflection. "Stop smiling," she told herself. "Shouldn't you be some sort of guilty mess?" she inquired, trying to hold back giggles. But it was no use. She gave in to the giddy laughter as scenes from the night before played over in her mind.

She felt the water. It was perfect. She stepped into the shower and tried not to think about the fact that her sweaty lust, as well as Damon's, was being washed away. She shook her head, as if trying to wake herself from a trance. She worked words and phrases over in her mind, frantically trying to prepare herself for her eminent conversation with Stefan.

_I have something to tell you… Stefan, sit down, there's something we need to talk about… Something happened last night, while you were with Bonnie… Bonnie._

"Oh no," Elena whispered to herself. She'd completely forgotten about Bonnie… about Grams. Some friend I am, she thought. She quickly finished washing and turned off the water. She frantically dried herself off before pulling on a pair of jeans and an old gray sweatshirt. Then she reached for her phone.

As it was ringing, she realized she had no clue what to say. She almost hoped that Bonnie wouldn't answer, but after two rings she heard a voice.

"Bonnie," she said before her friend had a chance to say hello. "Bonnie, what happened?"

Bonnie sighed. "She's… gone."

A knot formed in Elena's stomach. For the first time since the night before, she pushed Damon out of her mind. "I'm so sorry."

"I just can't believe it," Bonnie said.

Elena hadn't really felt guilty until that moment. She wasn't guilty for sleeping with Damon, although she knew she should have been. Instead, she was guilty for not having been there for Bonnie. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there," she said quietly. "I was going to come, but—"

"Oh, Elena," Bonnie cut her off. "Don't worry about it. Stefan told me. I know he wanted you to stay with Damon." Elena swallowed. "How is he?" Bonnie asked.

A hundred answers seemed to come to her at once, but she sifted through them to find the most appropriate and honest one. She couldn't lie to Bonnie, but she couldn't tell her about last night. Not yet. "I think he's going to be okay," Elena told her. "He was—" a knock on her bedroom door interrupted her. "Come in," she offered without thinking. The door opened slowly to reveal Stefan. She stared at him with something like awe for a moment before she spoke again, to Bonnie. "Hey, Stefan just got here. I'll give you a call in a little bit."

Now Bonnie was the one to swallow—hard. "Okay," she said. "I think my parents and I are going to be kind of busy with… you know, everything. So I'll just call you whenever I can."

"Alright, talk to you later," Elena said and then closed her phone.

***

Stefan sat in Bonnie's bed, wide awake, as she slept in his arms. He had been up for hours and it was light. For all of those hours he'd been very comfortable just holding her and working through his thoughts.

He thought about the night before, about the how they'd held each other, kissing for what must have been an hour or two until they both fell asleep, about the twisted sequence of events that led to it. He thought about compelling Bonnie's father at the hospital when he'd wanted Bonnie to go home with him. Bonnie had given Stefan a pleading look. He locked eyes with her father. "I think you'd better let me take Bonnie to her grandmother's house." Mr. Bennett nodded. "She'll be fine." The man had nodded in agreement.

He thought about following Bonnie upstairs, about the first kiss, followed by the shoes kicked off and onto the floor, followed by climbing under the covers. He reveled in the memory.

He thought about what she had said… _You always come for me_. She was right. As he looked at her now, safe in his arms, he believed he would drop anything and everything if this girl was in trouble. He wasn't sure why, but he was drawn to her. Maybe it was because he saw a glimpse of Sheila in her. It was the coexistence of strength and vulnerability he had seen all those years ago. Through all her power, part of Bonnie was still so helpless. He just felt that he should be the one to help her. As he looked at her now, safe in his arms, he believed he would drop anything and everything if this girl was in trouble.

As he sat there, he felt as though he had come to some sort of decision, but he wasn't sure of what it was. He just knew that he needed to keep Bonnie safe. In that moment, she was his to protect—his to watch over. But it's better to be beside her than watch over her, he thought, and it made him smile.

He kissed her on the top of her head and did his best to run his fingers through her dark hair, tangled from the action of the night before—_all _of the action.

She woke slowly and nuzzled her head against his neck. "Hi," she said, a smile coming to her.

Stefan smiled back at her. "Hi," he said. "I think I'd better take you home."

She furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"Well," he began, "it's quarter-after ten, and your family should really be together now."

She sighed. "Alright," she agreed.

"I ought to get home and see how Damon is doing too," he added.

She frowned. "And Elena…"

"And Elena," he nodded.

She bowed her head as she was overcome with guilt. "I must be the worst friend of all time. Stefan, we have to tell her."

"Bonnie, just… leave that to me," he insisted.

She nodded as she got out of bed. She pulled on her shoes and he followed her back downstairs.

The silence during the ride back was unbearable for Bonnie, but whenever she glanced over at Stefan, he seemed perfectly content. She searched her mind for something—anything—to say to ease the tension. Stefan beat her to it.

"You know," he said, his eyes still on the road. "That was really nice, last night."

She smiled. The thought was unexpected but wonderful. "Yeah," she agreed. "It really was." Then there was silence for the rest of the ride, but it didn't bother Bonnie anymore. He pulled up along the curb in front of her house and reached over the armrest to wrap his arms around her. She breathed in his scent as he held her.

He let her go, and as she got out of the car, he said, "Give me a call later."

"I will," she said warmly.

He watched as she walked to the door and went inside. Then he headed for the Elena's house. The way he saw it, he had one option, and that was to tell Elena what had happened. He was unsure of what would come afterward, but Bonnie's voice was echoing in the back of his mind. _You always come for me_…

Jenna let him in. "Hi, Stefan."

"Good morning," he said politely. Before he began to ask for Elena, Jenna answered him.

"She's in her room—go on up," she said with a smile.

Stefan laughed quietly. "Thanks."

When he reached the top of the stairs, he heard her voice. She was on the phone with Bonnie, who was asking about Damon. He knocked on Elena's door and she stopped mid-sentence. "Come in," she said.

He turned the doorknob and pushed forward slowly. When she saw him, she looked shocked. She quickly ended her conversation and hung up.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," he answered. He walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her.

She took a deep breath. "I have something to tell you," she said.

* * *

_And you'll never guess what it is (ha)! Keep those raving **reviews** coming. They are the coins in my ego piggy-bank._

_Incidentally, I totally have a soundtrack to all this in my head. I think in terms of movies. So a good 70% of my story is written with a song in my heart. If you guys are interested whatsoever in what songs/scenes I have linked up in my head, let me know. I just don't want to force it down your throats if you don't give a hoot._


	5. Coming Clean

******OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. But here's to hoping!**

_SO! Here we are. It's been a few days, I know, but I really wanted to get this chapter JUST RIGHT! I have also decided (with YOUR help, lovely readers) to include a sort of "soundtrack listing" at the end of each chapter from here on out. I think in terms of movies, so a lot of the time I have a song playing in my head when I write a scene. For example, during the dream sequence in chapter 4 (aptly titled "the Dream"), I had the amazing D/S/E triangle set to "I Want You (She's So Heavy)" from the _Across the Universe_ soundtrack. I had that song and scene matched up really meticulously, down to lyrics and bars and all sorts of good stuff. ANYWAY. From here on out, you'll get inside my head for that stuff. A big thank you to Jen (Angel's blue eyed girl) for recommending this fic to so many readers. I appreciate it! You'll all be happy to know that this chapter is my longest one to date : )_

**Here's what you've been waiting for. Enjoy, gluttons!**

* * *

Stefan smiled nervously. "Okay," he said.

And then there was silence. Elena could have sworn it was an hour as she sorted through all the combinations of words in her head. What could she possibly say? He was staring at her, silently willing her to tell him. What have I gotten myself into? she thought. She was screaming at herself on the inside, just tell him! She looked down at her hands, which had a tight hold on her white sheet. She thought of the cool, blue satin from the dream and took a deep breath. She remembered how Stefan had left quietly in the dream. Hold onto that, she told herself as she looked back up at him.

He hadn't taken his eyes off of hers, and when she met his gaze, there was some kind of pain in it. Had Bonnie told her? He couldn't believe it. He hadn't expected it to hurt her like this. "Elena," he muttered. "What—" But she couldn't let him finish. The words ran out of her with determination.

"I slept with Damon." She watched him carefully.

His mouth fell open. He blinked as his lips formed the trace of a "w" a few times—a "what" or a "why", but he was silent.

She shut her eyes for a moment. "Stefan," she began as she opened them, but stopped when she saw him scowling.

"What did he do to you?" he demanded.

"What? Nothing! Stefan, he—" she argued, but he cut her off.

"_What did he do to you_?" he asked again.

She frowned. "Stop it!" she begged. "It's not like that."

He rolled his eyes at her. "You really think that, don't you?" he asked, almost laughing at her. "I can't believe I trusted him. I can't believe I thought for a second he wouldn't take advantage of you."

Now she was angry. "Take _advantage_ of me? He didn't take advantage of me! If anything, I took advantage of _him_!"

His face relaxed into a saddened expression. He was thinking more clearly. The thought of the pain in her eyes from before made him sick to his stomach. Bonnie hadn't told her anything. She wasn't hurt, she was guilty. "So this is what you meant when you said he needed you last night?" he said, snidely.

"Excuse me?" she argued. "You said it first, Stefan. You were the one that left me there with him because he _needed_ me."

"I didn't leave you there to have sex with him!" he scoffed.

Her head fell and she looked at the sheet in her hands. "I'm sorry," she told him, her voice quiet and sincere. "It's not like I wanted it to end like this…" Her voice trailed off.

He froze. "End?" His voice was hollow. "What… So, it's over for us? Just like that, you're choosing him?"

She looked up at him again. "What do you want me to do, Stefan—dance around between the two of you forever?" The question was cutting.

"How can you choose him so easily, Elena?" he asked her.

She hesitated, afraid of saying what had to be said. She had hoped he would just have realized it on his own, but she'd come this far. "Damon and I… We need each other."

He heaved a breath that was like a humorless laugh and shook his head slowly. "Well, that's just perfect," he said. "And I suppose you don't need me anymore?"

Her eyes welled up with tears. "You make it sound like I've just chewed you up and spit you out," she said, her voice shaking. She blinked and a pair of tears fell from her eyes.

He glared at her. "Haven't you?" he nearly shouted as he stormed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"I have to get out of here for a while. I have to get out of Mystic Falls. Just hope I'm back by the time you realize what a stupid mistake you've made." He slammed the door behind him.

"It wasn't a mistake!" she hollered after him angrily. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, now flushed.

She heard Jenna downstairs. "Stefan, is everything alright?" The front door slammed halfway through the sentence.

Elena only sat for a minute. She was surprised at how quickly the anger and pain of arguing melted into the relief that he had left. It hadn't gone the way she'd hoped—not by a long shot—but she'd done it. She'd told Stefan everything, and it felt like the weight of the world was off her shoulders.

Her sweatshirt quickly followed suit. She dropped it to the floor and opened her drawer to pull out her sexiest black lacy bra and the matching boy-short panties. She shimmied out of her jeans and went over to the bathtub. She turned on the water and twisted her hair up on top of her head, tying it into a messy bun. She stood in the tub. After she lathered up her legs, she picked up her razor and went to work.

She shaved quickly but efficiently. As she rinsed her now smooth legs off under the faucet, she thought of Damon's touch. She shivered as rose-tinted memories of the night before played over in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to recall every sound he'd made. Scattered words that he'd grunted through clenched teeth sounded distantly in her mind. …_how long I've waited for this… have to fuck you… come for me, Elena…_ The way he said her name was the best part of all.

Elena dried off her legs and massaged them with lotion. She slipped into the lacy black panties, aware that it wouldn't be long before they were soaked. She settled her breasts in the bra, watching them in the mirror as she squeezed them together with her arms and gave her sexiest pout. She giggled as she had before. "Go get 'em, tiger," she said to her reflection.

She retrieved a black ribbed tank-top from her drawer and pulled it on, letting the very top of the lace poke out from underneath. Then, it was back on with her jeans. She went to the mirror and slicked a touch of golden, shimmery eye shadow on her lids, then some black eyeliner and mascara. No need for blush, she thought. She was adequately flushed from reminiscing. She swiped some rosy gloss on her lips and kissed the air, admiring her reflection once again. She pulled the tie out of her hair and shook the bun loose. She pulled a pair of white ankle-socks out of her drawer and then paused as a thought crossed her mind. She tossed the socks back in the drawer. "Heels," she said aloud. She went to her closet and slipped into a pair of black pumps. Not very fun to drive in, but they made her feel sexy, which was undoubtedly a priority. Her leather jacket was still sitting on the window seat where she'd flung it upon entering her room that morning. She picked it up and started putting it on. She gave the mirror one last smile before heading downstairs.

She was shoving her arm through the second sleeve as she made her way to the front door, and as soon as her hand touched the doorknob, Jenna's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"Hold it," she demanded. Elena turned around to meet her gaze. "What's going on? Why did Stefan storm out of here without a word?"

Elena rolled her eyes at the mentioning of Stefan. "I had to make a decision, and he didn't like what I chose," she said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh? And what choice was that?" Jenna asked, her eyebrows raised.

Elena sighed. "To be with Damon."

Jenna stared at her blankly for a moment. Elena could see that she wanted to argue, but eventually opted against it. "Are you sure about this?" she finally asked.

Elena smiled. "Like you wouldn't believe, Jenna." She opened the door.

"Where are you going?" her aunt asked.

She responded with an "are-you-kidding-me" look. "Where do you think?"

Jenna shook her head and smiled. "Be careful, alright?"

Elena nodded. "See you later."

The drive seemed to take an eternity. She felt the need for Damon, earlier confined to the wetness between her thighs, spread to her stomach and her chest. She was yearning for him. When she arrived at the boarding house, she was pleased to see his Camaro in the driveway. She parked hastily and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror before getting out and walking, or rather strutting to the front door.

Elena took a deep breath and knocked twice, though she didn't wait for an answer. She pushed the big door open and walked in, closing it behind her. "Damon," she called out with a sultry voice.

And all at once, he was down the stairs in a blur. If she'd have blinked, she would have missed it. He stopped just in front of her, eyeing her from top to bottom. "Well, look at you all dolled up," he said with a smirk as he closed the space between them. He put an arm around her waist and pulled her middle to his. Their lips were nearly touching.

The corners of her mouth turned into a coy smile. "I've been thinking about you all morning. I couldn't wait anymore."

His smirk widened into a satisfied grin. "That makes two of us," he admitted.

Elena's smile faded as she remembered the bad news. "Bonnie's grandmother…" she began. "She's dead."

To her surprise, Damon's head fell. "Damn," he said woefully.

"Bonnie's going to be okay, I think. She's tough," Elena added, and they were silent for a moment.

Then Damon spoke. "So, I'm surprised my brother hasn't charged at me with a stake yet. You _did_ tell him, didn't you?" She just nodded. "And how did he take it?"

"Great," Elena said sarcastically. Then she switched to a casual tone. "He stormed out. He's leaving town for a while. He's furious with me," she said as she moved to Damon and unbuttoned his jeans. She paused for a moment and looked up at him. His blue eyes were wide and practically glittering, and his mouth was cocked in a very pleased half-smile. "But he's gone now," she sang seductively. He loved the naughtiness in her voice, not to mention her apparent total disregard for his brother's feelings.

She swung him around and pushed him against the front door and quickly locked it. It only took a moment to slide his jeans and boxers down his thighs a bit so that his erect cock was exposed to her. She fell to her knees and smiled up at him, soaking in the look of pleasant surprise. She took his length in her hand and licked her lips. That drove him wild—like she couldn't wait to taste him.

Which she couldn't. Carefully, lightly, she ran the tip of her tongue around his head. He groaned. "Elena…" The name escaped his lips like a whisper, and it made her even hungrier for him. Her tongue slid down the underside of his shaft and back again. As she felt him shiver, she circled his head again delicately. She glanced up at him to see that his eyes were shut and his mouth was wide open, as though he'd lost the control to keep his jaw from dropping.

Elena took him into her mouth wholly, as far as he would go. She felt his entire body jerk. He let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a grunt, but Elena wasn't worried about identifying it; whatever the sound was, it seemed to have hit her in the stomach. Her belly twisted anxiously with the desire to ride him, but it was just slightly outweighed by the desire to feel him squirm just like this.

He wanted to watch her as her head bobbed, and for fleeting moments he did. But the feeling of her mouth around him was unbelievable. Though he tried to keep his gaze locked on her sweet little mouth wrapped around his cock, but his eyes kept rolling back in his head. He was gritting his teeth and he grabbed a fistful of her chocolate brown hair forcefully—probably _too _forcefully.

But Elena didn't complain, though she nearly choked on him with surprise. Her hand wandered up his thigh, her fingers tickling his flesh as they brushed across it. Then she took hold of his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze as she sucked hard on him.

He quivered as she swirled her tongue around his cock. "Elena," he groaned. He repeated the name over and over again, unable to control it—or maybe he was able, but he didn't care to try. He held on to her hair as he trembled. She was moving faster now, her head dipping back and forth more vigorously. It was hard for Damon to keep it together. His warm pre-cum was dripping down her throat as he fought to hold on. He wanted to come _inside_ her, and he wanted to feel her coming all around him. It took him almost a full minute to muster up the willpower to stop her.

"Get up," he said, trying to catch his breath as he pulled gently on her hair, prying her mouth away from his throbbing hard-on. His plan was to swing her around, almost violently, and push her back up against the door. He'd planned to close the space between him by pushing himself against her and making her squeal. He'd planned to pull her jeans off at lightning speed and shove himself into her just as fast. He'd planned to spill everything he had into Elena after what would probably be mere moments. But as she rose, everything seemed to slow down, and Damon immediately and involuntarily abandoned all of those plans.

He stood there for a moment, ready still to explode, but not physically like before. Instead, he felt that he was filled to the brim with something almost unreal. He put his hand behind her head and pulled her toward him, smoothly and slowly, until their lips met. The kiss was incredible. She was taken aback by how soft but intense his usually quick—in every way—mouth was against hers. His tongue twisted and tangled with hers and her knees weakened slightly at the sensation. He pulled away for a moment and stared into her eyes. Those deep, brown eyes stared back at his surrender to this emotion. He took her by the hand and led her to the fireplace where it had all begun the night before.

Words of love were in his throat, but he fought them back. In his mind, he was chanting it. She peeled off his grey tee-shirt. Grey was usually such a gloomy color, but compared to the blacks and navies that Damon usually wore, it seemed very light. He kicked off his shoes and socks before she pulled his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down. He kicked those aside as well. She let her eyes pass up and down his perfect body as she held on tight to her words of love.

It was a new sensation for Damon—standing naked in front of a woman. Usually, his clothes were torn off in the process of ravaging his partner. It wasn't like him to stand and display himself patiently. Of course, he was yearning to be inside of her, but there was something satisfying in this by itself. He was stripped down completely in front of Elena. What a cheap metaphor, he thought to himself and laughed a little.

Elena cocked a grin at him. "What's so funny?"

Damon shook his head. "I just thought of something really…" He struggled to find the right word. "Cliché, I guess."

"What?" she giggled.

"I don't know. Being naked and exposed like this. I've completely bared myself to you, inside and out." His eyes were wide and he was smiling, as though he were getting to the punch line of a joke.

She laughed. "Alright, it might be cliché," she admitted. "But it's still very sweet."

"Naturally, darling," he said as he lifted her up from the couch to stand in front of him. He slid her leather jacket off and let it fall to the floor, and her tank-top, pumps, and jeans quickly piled on top of it. It was quite a sight as she stood there, her toned, perfect body dressed only in that incredible black lace. It made his cock stand at attention.

The look on his face was driving her wild. His eyes were passing over her rapidly, seemingly unable to decide which part of her to look at. His lips, redder than usual from the lip gloss that had rubbed off of during their kiss, were parted, and he ran his tongue—god, that tongue!—across them. He was breathing heavily, and she knew it was because he was eagerly inhaling the scent of her desire. Her panties were, as she had expected, soaked through by now.

He pushed her gently so that she was sitting upright on the couch. He kneeled before her and slowly slid his hands up her thighs. She whimpered. He grinned. Her mind drifted to the night before, to the way he felt as he filled her, and she ached to feel it again. "Oh, Damon," she sighed as he kissed her thigh. "Please," she begged as she reached for his shoulders, trying to pull him up.

He crawled up her body and pressed his forehead to hers as one hand found the clasp of her bra. "Please _what_?" he asked her, cocking an eyebrow at her as he peeled her bra away and released her beautiful, olive breasts and those two absolutely perfect nipples. He sucked and nipped at one of them while he massaged the other with his hand. His idle hand didn't remain idle for long—it tiptoed down her belly to her mound. She gasped.

"Fuck me," she pleaded.

He moved up to bring his mouth to her ear, simultaneously taking his erection in his hand and pressing the head against the black lace between her thighs. "Come on, baby," he whispered against her earlobe, "not before I return the favor." Before she knew it, he was on his knees again. He breathed hard against her panties, anticipating her reaction. It didn't disappoint; her hips bucked beneath his mouth and she swore. He bit down, taking her underwear in his teeth and pulling at them savagely. Her hips bucked even harder. His hands violently rid her of her last shred of clothing, pulling the soaking black lingerie down her legs and off over her feet. He spread her thighs wide and slid two fingertips between her dripping folds. She gritted her teeth and looked down at him. He licked her juice off his fingers and reached up to massage one breast as he dove between her legs.

He drove his tongue up into her and she jerked against him. As he continued to fuck her with his tongue, her body writhed even more furiously beneath him and he had to let go of her breast to get a hold on her hips. He lifted her legs and draped them over his shoulders, locking his arms around her thighs to keep her in place as he flicked his tongue over her clit. She was going wild; she couldn't keep herself still. He nipped at the little bud and sucked on it. "Damon!" Elena cried over and over again. The cry echoed through the old house, and undoubtedly, had there been anyone passing by they'd have heard it as well. He cautiously released one of her legs and brought his free hand to her opening. He pumped two fingers into her as he bit and sucked at her clit.

He felt her shudder, and though he didn't think it was possible, she screamed even louder. Her hands frantically searched for something to hold on to. One of them found a fistful of his soft, dark hair, and the other dug fingernails into his shoulder. He grunted against her cunt and pumped his hand faster. She threw her head back as the orgasm took her over. Damon frantically lapped at her wetness as her walls stopped contracting around his fingers. He pulled them out and turned her to lie down on the couch. He positioned his groin between her legs, lifting one of her thighs and resting it on his hip. She draped her other leg over the back of the couch and he thrust himself into her with a groan. His chest pressed against hers and his head fell to her neck as he filled her again and again.

"Oh my god," he muttered against her flesh. His hip had her thigh pinned up along her belly and he was hitting a spot in her sheath that was quickly taking her to her next orgasm. She dug her fingernails into his back and shouted his name again. He lifted his head to look into her eyes. He was teetering on the edge, and he could plainly see that she was too. He grabbed the arm of the couch behind her and used it to pull himself into her harder. He swayed his hips back and forth to hit her from every angle imaginable. "Oh, fuck," he grunted. "Elena," he said. It was almost under his breath, but he repeated it, just as she had repeated his name before. The volume increased with each cry until he was shouting. He felt the familiar convulsion around his cock again as the orgasm hit her. She gasped, her mouth wide open as she heaved unbearably enormous breaths.

He didn't take his eyes off of her as she rode her orgasm out, all while his was building inside him. Damon thrust harder and harder, still holding tight to the arm of the couch behind her head. His other hand moved to cup her face. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek as he felt his climax approaching—only moments away. "Oh, Elena," he sighed, his forehead against hers. Their eyes were locked. "I love you," he groaned as he pushed up into her a final time and spilled his come.

Her eyes widened with surprise and delight. He froze and swallowed hard, then continued gasping for air. He closed his eyes and smiled. He pulled himself out of her slowly and flipped around so that he was sitting up on the couch. He pulled Elena up to snuggle against her. She nuzzled into his neck. "I love you too, you know," she told him before nipping at the space between his neck and shoulder. He smiled and lifted her chin up, then kissed her.

"I don't know how you do it, kid," he said to her. "But you've just got this way of making my heart skip a beat." He batted his eyelashes at her and she laughed.

"Well the feeling's mutual," she said with a smile. "I worked up an appetite," she announced, happily springing to her feet and pulling on her underwear and her tank-top. She turned to walk to the kitchen.

"Not so fast," he said, stopping her in her tracks. He stood up and picked his boxers up, turning them right-side-out. "The heels," he ordered with a grin.

She beamed and slid into them. "You like?" she asked with mock shyness.

He answered her with a growl and pulled her toward him by her tank-top. He kissed her hard on the mouth before letting her go to the kitchen. He slipped into his boxers while he listened to the sound of cabinets opening and closing. He pulled his tee-shirt from the mess on the floor and put it on. Then he heard a knock on the door.

He walked to the front entrance and opened the door to reveal Bonnie standing behind it. "Hi," he offered.

She looked him up and down as he stood there in his underwear and a tee-shirt. "Um… hi," she replied.

"Excuse the outfit," he insisted with a grin, which soon faded. "Hey, I'm sorry about your grandmother."

Bonnie nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Damon frowned. "I really am. And I really appreciate what you two did for us—for me—last night. I'm sorry it ended the way it did."

Bonnie's expression lightened a bit. "Thank you, Damon." She paused for a few moments. "Is Stefan here?"

"No, ma'am. Why don't you try his cell?" he suggested.

She sighed. "Yeah, I tried."

"Well what do you need?" he asked her. Maybe he should try and help her. It was the least he could do for insisting her grandmother try the spell that ended up killing her.

Bonnie froze for a moment. "I just…" she started, concocting a reasonable excuse in her mind. "I wanted to thank him for helping me out last night."

"Aha," Damon said. Just then, Elena walked back to the couch with a glass of water.

"You know, you really have no food in this place!" she called out.

Damon turned around, and Bonnie stepped inside. "Elena?" she called into the house.

"Bonnie!" Elena panicked slightly and picked up her jeans. She was pulling them on as she made her way to the front door and was still buttoning them as she got there. "Oh my god," she said as she and her friend threw their arms around each other. "How are you?" she asked, concerned.

Bonnie cocked an eyebrow at Elena as they let go. "I'm okay…" she said, half-smiling. "How are you two?"

Elena took a deep breath. "How this must look, huh?" she joked, trying to diminish the awkward vibe in the doorway. "Well, we…" Elena searched for an explanation and Damon watched with an amused smile. "Well, you're the psychic," she finally said, giving up. Damon laughed and kissed her on the cheek before he walked away to finish getting dressed.

"Oh my god, you whore!" Bonnie said, wide-eyed.

Elena laughed. "Shut up! I just… I don't know. I've felt it for a while and I finally realized what it is."

"Well I sure as hell know what it is!" Bonnie exclaimed, her words broken with laughter. "I can _smell_ it!" They both snickered uncontrollably. "So, tell me: what was this grand realization?"

"I need him. I _love_ him," Elena said proudly. Bonnie could hardly believe her ears. "Don't look at me like that, Bonnie. He's different than you think."

Bonnie almost snorted laughing. "Yeah, I bet." She paused to gather her composure. "Did you talk to Stefan?"

"Yeah; he took off when I told him," she explained. "I don't know when he's coming back. I just know he's livid."

"Oh," Bonnie said disappointedly. Elena stared at her and Bonnie snapped out of it. "I just wanted to thank him for everything last night, and all that… I tried to call him but he didn't answer his phone." Elena nodded.

The girls said their goodbyes and Bonnie left Elena to Damon. The pain she'd tried to ignore in the house crept up on her as she walked back to her car. Stefan hadn't told Elena. What's worse, he let Elena feel guilty about sleeping with Damon when Stefan had been unfaithful just the same. She picked up her cell phone and called Stefan again—for the fourth time, to be exact.

And for the fourth time, it went to voicemail.

At the beep, she sniffed and tried to mask the sound of crying in her voice. "Hey, Stefan, it's me. I know about Damon and Elena, so… I don't know. You said to call you, so I'm calling you. I know you didn't tell Elena about what happened but I didn't tell her. I know that you said to leave it to you. Elena says you took off… Well, I just want you to call me, I guess. Grams' wake is tomorrow and the service is the next day. I'd really like it if you came, so… Yeah. Please call me back. I'm a little worried about you. Bye."

* * *

Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 5:

"Like a Virgin," Madonna  
Elena calms down after Stefan leaves - She arrives at the boarding house

"A Big Hunk O' Love," Elvis Presley _*With particular emphasis on the lyric "But I ain't greedy, baby; All I want is all you got!*  
Elena gets Damon up against the wall - Everything slows down for Damon_

"Stuttering," Ben's Brother  
Everything slows down for Damon - Damon says "I love you"

"The Way I Am," Ingrid Michaelson  
Elena says "I love you" - Bonnie says "Um... hi"

"All Dressed Up With A Broken Heart," Peggy Lee  
Bonnie leaves the boarding house - end of chapter

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_Aaaaaand scene! Insert witty plea for **reviews** here._


	6. Bare

******OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. But here's to hoping!**

_Okay, so I know I'm dreadful. Go ahead, scorn me. I haven't updated in a while, and I admit this chapter isn't all that exciting. I had planned to make it much longer, but I remembered that I promised you no more 9-day hiatuses, and right now we're at about 8, so I'm giving you guys what I've got! The good news--I've been newly inspired in terms of plot and all that jazz, so there's plenty of good stuff to come. I love getting emails letting me know that so many people are adding this to story alert and as a favorite story, but of course, a good ol' fashioned **review **will always light a fire under my ass, so keep 'em coming!_

**Strike up the band, cue the overture, and lift the curtain. It's showtime!**

**

* * *

**

Bonnie stood outside her house and wiped her tears away. "Get it together," she muttered to herself under her breath. Just keep it together until you get upstairs, she thought. She took a deep breath before opening the door and heading directly for the stairs. Her father was in the kitchen discussing arrangements for the wake viewing and the funeral.

He noticed as she came in and called after her, but she didn't respond.

"She'll be fine," she heard him say mechanically to himself. Bonnie shuddered. It was like an echo of what Stefan had assured him while he compelled him the night before. Was he still under his trance? Bonnie shook her head, pushing the thought from her mind. After all, it didn't really matter.

Bonnie burst into her bedroom just as the tears began to flow uncontrollably from her eyes once again. She shut the door behind her as quietly as she could, but even so, a considerable slam sounded through the house. She sat down at her vanity and looked into the mirror. A nauseating knot was twisting in the pit of her stomach. It can't be nothing, she thought. She repeated the words over and over in her head. It can't be nothing. It can't be nothing. It can't be nothing.

Still, there was a dark voice inside her retorting, "Nothing more can come of this. It's ending before it will ever really begin." The very thought pained her. She threw an intent look at the candles that sat in front of the mirror. In a moment they were lit and she watched as her tears shined with reflections of the flames. The light flickered on her bronze skin and the self-pity sharpened into resentful anger. "Who does he think he is?" she whispered to her reflection as the flames swelled. In front of the candles were the scattered petals of two artificial flowers that had been sitting in a hand-painted vase for years. She'd pulled the petals out weeks ago and set them on her vanity so that she could whirl them around—partially for practice, and partially because she was still in awe of her own abilities.

She concentrated on the little synthetic petals as they began to rise from the surface, the pink ones swirling around with the yellow ones. At first she moved them without direction or intention, but then she focused in on one pink one specifically. Her eyes narrowed and the petal floated gently toward the still-increasing flames. As it caught and burned in the little fire, she felt her phone vibrate in her front pocket. All at once, the flames were doused and the little black wicks were smoking. The petals fell all around the vanity, some on her lap.

And with the petals, the anger fell out of her eyes and was replaced with something familiar—hope. She had to lean back to get her phone out of her skinny jeans, but she leaned back too far, and before she could catch herself, she toppled back onto the floor, landing on her elbow. "Shit," she muttered, but ignoring the pain in her elbow, she pulled the still buzzing phone from her pocket. Her heart was racing expectantly as she answered the call without bothering to check who was calling. Later she would wonder why she hadn't taken the time to check—whether she was certain of who was calling, or whether she was too afraid to find out it wasn't Stefan.

"Hello?" she answered softly, eyes wide with some combination of excitement and nervous apprehension. But she practically cringed when the person on the other end spoke.

"Honey, I am so sorry! My mom just told me about your grandmother. I can't believe it. I had to call you. How are you? I can't even imagine…"

Despite having asked a question, Caroline continued to babble on. Bonnie didn't fight to interrupt her. The tears were back and she knew that trying to speak would only result in broken words uttered through sobs. She took deep breaths until she'd gathered enough composure to speak, but even so, Caroline didn't give her an opportunity for quite a while. Bonnie only caught words and phrases here and there... "Matt," "I had no idea," "Damon and I," "It was never," "haven't done it…" She didn't have the patience to try and string them together as Caroline chewed her ear off.

Finally, Caroline yielded to Bonnie. "So, are you, like, okay?"

Bonnie sighed. She wanted to tell Caroline everything. She wanted to tell her what happened with Stefan, and how furious and heartbroken she was that he was nowhere to be found. She wanted to tell her about how she'd found Damon and Elena less than an hour earlier. She wanted to tell her everything. But she couldn't. "Yeah," she said. "I'm going to be okay."

She was lying through her teeth, but Caroline couldn't tell. It wasn't her fault, of course—Caroline just wasn't the type of person to worry too much about anyone but herself. Well, that wasn't entirely true. She was certainly the type of person to indulge in some great gossip, and even in the whirlwind of painful emotions surrounding Bonnie, she had to admit that all the news she fought to swallow was definitely great gossip. But Caroline would find out eventually, just as soon as Stefan told Elena.

That is, if Stefan ever came back.

She shook the thought from her mind. Caroline had already begun talking again, and Bonnie tried to catch up.

"…wake viewing at your house tomorrow. Matt and I are going to be there, of course, and then the—" Bonnie cut her off.

"Why 'Matt and I?'" she asked.

Caroline huffed, and Bonnie could picture her frustrated pout perfectly. "I told you. Last night, Matt and I talked, and we're official! He's so amazing, Bonnie. I'm, like, a total hot mess about it. I can't stop thinking about him!" Caroline explained, giggling.

Bonnie felt a forced smile come to her even though Caroline couldn't see her. "That's great," she insisted. It sounded believable, too. She was pleased with herself.

"Aw," Caroline cooed. "Thanks, sweetie. I was totally worried for the longest time about Elena and what she would think. But we talked about it a few days ago and she said she was okay with it. I was so relieved, because I thought she was just going to shit when she found out. But I guess if she's got the lovely Mr. Salvatore now, she really doesn't mind me and Matt together, you know?"

Bonnie couldn't help but crack a sincere smile. "Of course," she agreed. "The lovely Mr. Salvatore."

"So I guess you aren't going to be in school tomorrow, huh?" Caroline said.

"Nope," Bonnie replied. "We're going to be getting things ready around here for the viewing." She paused, and then added, "You know, I really appreciate the fact that you're coming."

"Hon, are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I'm going to be there for you." Caroline's words held a shimmer of hope. If being there for Bonnie was such a high priority for _Caroline_, there was just no way that Stefan wouldn't end up there for her as well.

"Thanks, Caroline."

"Of course. I have to go, babe. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye," Bonnie said before hanging up. She tossed the phone onto her bed. She sat for a minute, and bent her arm slowly, gauging the pain in her elbow. She winced a bit, but it wasn't too bad. There might be a bruise there tomorrow.

Tomorrow. He'll come, she assured herself. She took a deep breath and let the stress leave her as she exhaled. He'll be here, she told herself again. Still, her gaze traveled back toward the bed and lingered helplessly on her cell phone.

"No," she said aloud. She turned around resolutely and headed for the bathroom in the hallway. It surprised her, but talking to Caroline had put her in a good mood, and she didn't want to lose it. Just hold on, she demanded herself. Once in the bathroom, she let her clothes fall to the floor and filled the bathtub. She experimented with heating the water herself, something she'd never tried before. But, she thought, if I can make fire… The water heated with time, and Bonnie wasn't sure that she'd had anything to do with that.

She stepped into the tub and sat down slowly, letting herself sink in. She brought her head under the water for a few moments and relaxed, and when she came back up again, she felt invigorated. She looked up, but not at the ceiling—not at anything, in fact.

But she sat there for a while, gazing upward, and for once, not thinking of Stefan, but rather of Grams. "You've got rotten timing, Grams," she admitted softly, as though the late witch were there. "Well, at least one of us does." And with a bittersweet smile, she closed her eyes to reminisce.

***

It was mid-afternoon when Damon's shower turned off for the second time that day. Elena wrung her hair out with her hands as Damon reached out past the shower curtain for a bath sheet. He wrapped it around the both of them. Elena shivered as he pulled her close. She held the ends of the towel in her fists and wrapped her arms around his torso, but still his back was exposed to the chilly air as their naked bodies pressed together. He rubbed his nose against hers briefly and kissed her perfect, rosy lips.

He freed himself from her embrace and she hugged herself, clinging to the towel. He helped her out of the tub and led her to his bed. They got under the covers and Elena settled the towel across the pillows to soak under their wet hair. He held her in his arms beneath the white down comforter.

He kissed her on the forehead. "That was my second shower today," he stated the thought out loud. Elena smiled and pulled her hand from under the covers, holding three fingers up in front of him. He looked down at her. "Really?"

"Yeah, sort of," she said. "After Stefan left I hopped back in the tub to shave my legs."

He ran his hand over her flawlessly smooth leg, which was draped over his, and groaned with appreciation. "This is unreal," he said before lifting her chin so that her lips met his.

"What is?" she asked.

"You, with me," he explained. "I really had gotten to thinking you'd be drooling over Stefan forever."

She nuzzled his neck. "Where do you think he is?"

He shrugged unenthusiastically. "Your guess is as good as mine, kid. But I can tell you where he _isn't_: in his bedroom." He flashed her a cocky smile.

She rolled her eyes. "Nice try," she said. It was almost unsettling to her how easily she could forget about Stefan during all of this. She'd really hurt him, and while she knew that she was in the wrong, she couldn't bring herself to be guilty about it. "Maybe that's what the dream meant," she wondered out loud.

Damon shut his eyes and leaned his head back, relaxed. "What dream?" he asked.

She drew circles on his chest with her fingertip as she spoke. "I had this dream the other night about you and Stefan, and I've been trying to figure out what it means—especially after last night."

The words made them both smile. "So what exactly happened in this dream?" he inquired with a smirk.

She explained the dream to him. Damon's head lifted again as she told him and his eyes widened with fascination. He listened patiently, hanging on her every word. He was getting hard as she told him how he'd flung Stefan aside and had his own, gentle and passionate way with her. Then she told him her interpretation, and her explanation for why Damon had waited so long to get involved seemed to bring a little lingering melancholy to his eyes. He held her tighter in his arms, but nodded for her to go on.

"The only thing I couldn't figure out," Elena eventually said, "is why Stefan left so quietly in my dream. I figured it meant he would understand how much we need each other and he would just leave us alone. But now I realized something else."

"What's that?" he asked.

"I never really saw him leave in the dream. I don't think he was gone because he left quietly; I think he was gone because I forgot about him completely once I was with you. But when I was… with Stefan, I couldn't _not_ think of you. I kept staring at you, worrying about you… But it didn't happen the other way around."

A soft smile crept across his lips slowly and he loosened his embrace a bit.

She went on. "Basically, I think that the fact that Stefan was gone sort of represented my ability to ignore him, not his willingness to let me go."

Damon twisted his face in mild disgust—he really didn't care to talk about his coward of a brother any longer. "So I guess you'll be going to Sheila's wake tomorrow?" he said, changing the subject.

Elena looked up at him, slightly confused. "I didn't know there was a wake tomorrow."

"Yeah," he swallowed. "That's what Bonnie said."

"Oh. Well, yeah, of course I'll be going. And I think maybe you ought to come too," she added. He frowned, but nodded. "After all, they did that spell to save you."

"And they wouldn't have had to if I hadn't been so fucking determined to open that damned tomb. And for something that wasn't even inside," he said, and then looked at her. "For something I didn't even _want_."

Elena looked longingly into his sad, clear blue eyes. "Damon, it's done. You can't change what's happened… but maybe after we pay our respects to Grams, we can put this whole messy ordeal behind us."

He nodded, and she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She's not entirely right, he thought. There was something else—something that she had yet to confront.

But he couldn't be the one to tell her.

* * *

Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 6:

"Bandages," Hot Hot Heat  
Bonnie bursts into her room - She falls off the vanity seat

"Bowl of Oranges," Bright Eyes _*Particular emphasis on the lines: "That's why I'm singing, baby don't worry/'cause now I've got your back/and every time you feel like crying/I'm gonna try to make you laugh..."*_  
Bonnie cracks a sincere smile - She reminisces

"Let's Stay Together," Al Green  
At the boardinghouse

* * *

_I know, it's not really deserving of a fanfare or anything, but I hope it will satisfy you until I get something a little more meaty done. Oh, and as I said before, those **reviews** really fuel the fire, and I love it when I get the emails on my BlackBerry when I'm out and about. Thanks, kids. Lots of love._


	7. Hunger

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. Sigh. If only****.**

_So, I know I left you guys hanging for a while. Life is busy, things come up. So I'm sorry, but I assure you I only take so long so that I can be sure whatever I publish is TOPS for you guys : ) Plus, I know you guys are all satisfied by the newest episode. Finally we get some action after the six-week dry spell! And hooray for my 100th review... Thanks **Poor Wendy**! A shout-out to my best friend _Hallie_. I wrote her into this chapter because I knew she'd appreciate it!_

_A few words regarding the much-celebrated return of the series... I know that my story doesn't acknowledge a lot of the problems and story lines currently evolving on the show, so I hope you guys forgive me for that. I've been ignoring the Isabel issue, the Harper issue, and all sorts of other issues, I know. But this is what is so wonderful about the land of Fan Fiction, yes? We make our own fun! BUT, if there's something from the series that you feel deserves its place in my fic, let me know! Don't be shy with recommendations and suggestions, kids!_

**Now that I've bored you, here's **Hunger**!**

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* * *

**

Elena pouted as she drove away from the boardinghouse early Monday morning. School was going to be hell today—she just knew it. Sitting in cramped classrooms all day while her mind raced with sweaty memories of skin-against-skin was bound to be a challenge, but she supposed she didn't really have a choice. When she got home, she was headed to the front door, but it swung open before she could reach for the knob. Jenna was standing there, her arms lifted in some conceding shrug.

"So is this going to become a regular thing?" her aunt asked.

Elena giggled. "I'm sorry, Jenna."

Jenna sighed. "Listen, I just want to know you're alright. And I want to know if you aren't going to be home. So do me a favor—next time, call. And try to keep the school-night slumber parties to a minimum. Deal?"

"Deal," Elena agreed happily.

Jenna smiled. "See? It pays off to have a young, hip guardian like me." Elena really laughed now. Jenna was right—it really did pay off.

Elena glanced at the kitchen clock. "I'd better get ready for school." Jenna nodded. "You know Bonnie's grandmother's wake—"

Jenna cut her off. "Yeah, Jeremy and I are going over. You can come with us if you want, but I didn't know if you would rather go with your friends."

Elena shrugged. "I'll see," she said, and then she headed up to her room. She wasn't sure how appropriate it was to show up at a wake viewing with the guy you couldn't stop thinking about—it made it feel like a date or something. It might be better to just see Damon there, but then again, it might seem a little weird if Damon just showed up on his own. Even if Stefan came back, Damon certainly wouldn't show up with him.

In her room she shuffled through her closet and her dresser drawers quickly, settling on a thin burgundy v-neck sweater and a pair of blue skinny jeans. She got dressed and kept glancing at the clock. She was thankful that she'd had another shower with Damon that morning—for more than one reason. She pulled on a pair of socks and laced up her sneakers. She brushed her teeth and did her make-up hastily, and grabbed her leather jacket as she headed back downstairs.

She was nearly out the door when Jenna stopped her. "Where's your book bag?"

Elena paused to think. "In the car," she said with a please-don't-kill-me smile.

Jenna put her hands on her hips—the go-to parenting stance. "_That_, on the other hand, isn't going to fly, Elena."

Elena smiled apologetically. "I know—I'm _really_ sorry. It won't happen again. Busy weekend… crazy weekend, actually, but it won't happen again, okay?"

Jenna nodded assertively. "It better not."

Elena hugged her aunt. "Thanks for caring so much, Jenna," she said as she held on briefly.

"Yeah, yeah," Jenna laughed. "Get out of here."

As expected, school was miserable. The whole day was flooded with talk of Bonnie's grandmother—the funeral, the viewing, and "poor Bonnie." Some people were talking about Stefan's absence, but considering his already shoddy attendance record, no one made a very big deal about it. Of course, no one knew that Elena and he were no longer together, and they certainly didn't know anything about her and Damon. In the halls there was a bit of chatter regarding the blossoming relationship between Caroline and Matt. Some kids were giving Elena sympathetic looks, and others were avoiding her gaze completely. It was eerily familiar—it was almost exactly the way they'd acted when she'd first returned to school in September.

History was particularly uncomfortable. It had been strange for a while, ever since Alaric had spoken with Stefan and found out the truth behind the Salvatores. But with both Stefan and Bonnie's seats vacant, Elena felt especially lonely. After a day of awkward excuses to teachers about her missing homework, averted glances from her classmates, and the utter inability to focus on anything but the weekend's… activities, she was even more grateful than usual to leave.

As soon as she got into her car, her phone rang.

"Hey, Caroline."

"Elena! Where are you? I was waiting by your locker—"

Elena cut her off. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't stop there—I have to run home and change for the viewing."

"Oh, okay. Well that's what I was going to ask you—if you were going. Well, I mean, not if you were going, because _obviously_ you're going…"

Elena rolled her eyes. "_Obviously_," she mimicked.

"Okay. Well go change and Matt and I will see you there."

"Alright," Elena said. "See you guys in a bit."

"Bye!" Caroline chirped as Elena ended the call.

When she got home, Elena told Jenna and Jeremy to go ahead without her. As soon as the door shut behind them, she headed upstairs to call Damon before getting changed. When she opened the door, his gorgeous form was already lounging on her bed.

She gasped and smiled, surprised. "You've got some nerve," she managed to say after she caught her breath.

"I've got _a lot_ of nerve," he corrected her as he rose from the bed. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"And to think, I was going to call you just so I could hear your voice," she said, her forehead and the bridge of her nose pressed against his. He smiled. "I didn't see your car outside," she added.

"I parked it around the corner," he said with a wink. "I wanted you nice and surprised." Then he slid his hands under the hem of her shirt, tracing his fingertips along her bare hips.

"Oh, no, pal," she kidded as she pulled away. "I have to get changed."

He raised his eyebrows in that all-too-familiar way. "Great idea; I'll help."

She bit her lip. "I guess I can't argue with that, but I mean it, Damon—we can't fool around right now. I'm not walking into Grams' wake smelling like sex and you."

Damon was dressed pretty typically—he wore his black jeans and boots, as always—though Elena noticed he'd made the effort to dress up slightly for the occasion. He was wearing a black blazer instead of his usual leather jacket, and beneath it was forest green v-neck sweater.

He helped her out of her sweater and her jeans. He ran his hands along her nearly naked body and reached around to unclasp her black bra, but she asserted herself and gave him a playful slap on the wrist. He reluctantly complied and followed her to the closet, where she picked out a long-sleeved gray sweater dress. She reached up and let him slide the dress over her curves. She fished a pair of black wool tights out of her dresser drawer and rolled them up her legs slowly. Damon watched, his lips slightly parted, and he fought his undeniable desire to pounce on her and have her then and there.

He swallowed as she smoothed her dress down over her thighs again. She slid into the pair of black flats that sat on her closet floor. She looked up at him.

"Stop looking me like that," she said.

"Like what?" he asked, though he didn't need to.

And she knew it too. "You know what. Like I'm a cupcake."

He laughed, and she couldn't help laughing too. "I smell a new pet name," he kidded.

"Don't even think about it," she said, and then her smile faded. "We'd better get going,"

Damon sighed. "Well, I think I'm going to need a little something to hold me over, cupcake." He added the name just to push her buttons, but he didn't really give her time to react. He pinned her between himself and the wall and held her face in his hands, looking into her eyes longingly, but briefly, before pressing his mouth against hers.

Now, every kiss with Damon was incredible, but this one was far and away the best yet. She felt everything in it—the desperation of a starving man, the charge of one who was in command, and the vulnerability of a boy who was laying everything on the line for this girl. When he finally drew back, she had a dreamy look on her face. Damon swept his raw emotions under the rug and put an arm around her. "Come on," he said as they walked toward the door, a satisfied smile on Damon's face.

***

Bonnie's street was lined with parked cars, so Damon had to park a few houses down. They walked to the house, Damon's arm around Elena's waist. Bonnie's father answered the door and invited them in. Elena and Mr. Bennett hugged briefly and kissed each other on the cheek. "I'm so sorry," she told him.

He then shook Damon's hand. "I'm sorry for your loss," Damon said sincerely.

"Thank you," Mr. Bennett replied. "You're a friend of Bonnie's?"

Well, there's a loaded question, Damon thought. "Yes," he ultimately agreed. It wasn't the time or place to go into that explanation.

The man nodded. "Well, thank you both for being here," he said before excusing himself to greet another guest. Damon and Elena walked to the open casket. Elena's breath was shaky, and she felt Damon reach for her hand to comfort her as they saw Grams. Elena was slightly relieved at the sight—Grams looked… peaceful. She had been thinking of the frightening sight of her parents' bodies. It had been very unsettling; they had been so pale, and the cakey makeup had looked even more unnatural on their too-young faces.

Grams, on the other hand, looked almost as though she was sleeping. Her hands were folded across her chest, and she was dressed in a lovely black gown with embroidery. Her cheeks almost seemed as though they still had some color in them. She looked content, lying there. She had been a wise, knowing woman in life, and it seemed that in death, she would take with her all the secrets and knowledge she'd acquired through her years. Elena touched the old woman's cool hand and bowed her head.

"Goodbye," she whispered almost silently. And then, even more quietly, added, "Thank you."

Damon couldn't bring himself to say anything, but he'd stared at Sheila with a newfound appreciation and respect. He nodded when Elena thanked her, as if to echo her gratitude.

And then they turned away to find Bonnie. She was in her kitchen, as were most of the students present. Caroline was beside her, her arm linked with Matt's. Elena's eyes passed over many faces, but none of them belonged to Stefan.

Bonnie caught her eye and motioned her over, and Damon followed, his hand still holding Elena's.

Elena let go briefly as she pulled Bonnie into a hug. Bonnie hugged her back, partially because she was thankful to have a distraction from Caroline for even a moment. "How are you?" Elena asked quietly.

Bonnie shrugged. Damon looked at her, doing his best to convey sympathy without having to speak, and Bonnie understood and nodded at him. He then looked at Caroline to see she was looking at him with disdain, but when he caught her eye, she turned away immediately, and pulled Matt a bit closer to her.

"So where's Stefan?" she asked Elena. "Bonnie here has been worrying that he wouldn't show since I told her he wasn't in school today, but I kept saying he'd come with you guys."

Elena bit her lip. "We were kind of hoping we'd find him here," she admitted.

Speak for yourself, Damon thought.

Caroline furrowed her brow suspiciously. "So what, is he like, missing?"

Elena tried to keep it vague. "He's out of town."

The group was silent for a few moments. Elena noticed how devastated Bonnie looked. She didn't have to say that she wanted Stefan there—Elena could see it in her eyes. "Bonnie," she said softly, trying to speak only to her. "I can't believe he isn't here, either, but please don't take it personally. It's our fault."

Bonnie looked away. "Listen, it's no big deal," she said as she turned to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Caroline asked, sounding almost offended.

"I've been down here all day. I just want to be alone for a while," she explained, and then disappeared up the stairs.

Matt maintained his silence, pretending not to feel the unbearable tension surrounding the four of them. Caroline shot Elena a narrow-eyed, you've-got-a-lot-of-explaining-to-do look. Damon was eyeing the staircase, and Elena was searching frantically for _any_ escape.

"Well, I think I'll go find Jenna and Jeremy," she said. "We'll see you guys tomorrow."

Elena pulled Damon toward the adult crowd, but he stopped her. "I'm actually going to use the restroom."

"Okay," she nodded and pointed toward a line of people.

He frowned convincingly. "Maybe I'll sneak upstairs."

She smiled. "Alright, but don't get into any trouble."

Damon cocked an eyebrow at her and they split up.

He wandered up the stairs and saw the bathroom door open. He pulled it shut and then, in a fraction of a second, he was at Bonnie's bedroom door, which she'd left ajar. She was swirling the petals around on her vanity when he saw her, and the candles in front of the mirror were lit.

"So," he said. He startled her. The petals fell just as they had the day before, and the candles blew out as she turned to see him. "You're hiding something from Elena." The accusation was accompanied by his usual grin.

Bonnie froze for a moment before replying. "What are you talking about?"

He rolled his eyes. "'Oh, Stefan, I didn't tell Elena about what happened,'" he mocked in a feminine tone.

Her eyes widened. "You heard," she muttered. "Listen, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong."

"I really doubt that," he laughed. "I know my brother, sweetheart, and while I'll never understand it, I know the effect that brooding, eternally adolescent mess has on girls." He eyed her carefully. "And you've got it. So whatever happened—"

She interrupted him. "Damon, you don't understand; we just—"

"Save it," he said, cutting her off. His tone was serious now, and the humor was gone from his eyes. "I don't want to know, alright? But I'll be damned if Elena is going to walk around thinking St. Stefan is the only victim here."

Aren't you damned already? Bonnie thought to herself. She hesitated. "He's going to tell her," she tried to insist, but it lacked enthusiasm.

"You sure about that?" he asked, noticing the absence of faith in her voice.

She nodded. "He told me to let him deal with it," Bonnie said slowly.

"Well, somebody had better deal with it. I know you're not exactly 'Team Damon,' Bonnie, but I love that girl," he said as he extended his arm toward the door, pointing at the stairs, "which means I'm personally invested in this situation now." He looked her in the eyes.

"Are you…" she started slowly, "doing that… trance thingy?"

He shook his head and laughed, but there is no humor in it. "No. I'm not compelling you. Because I don't think I need to, Bonnie." She nodded. He spoke the next words dramatically, needing to get the point across. "Do not hurt her."

Bonnie's head fell guiltily. "Alright." He turned to leave, but stopped when she spoke again. "When is he coming back, Damon?"

He turned to face her, and he almost felt sorry for her. The tears were welling up in her eyes. She was so vulnerable. Damon fought the urge to chuckle at his brother's carelessness in taking advantage of such an innocent little bird like Bonnie. "I really don't know. This is categorically uncharacteristic of him; he's never been the _chivalry-is-dead_ type." And with that, he headed downstairs again. The floodgates were about to break, he feared, and he didn't intend on sticking around for the emotional downpour. He pitied the girl—he really did—but there was only so much raw human emotion he could tolerate, especially when it involved his brother.

Elena was talking with Jeremy, Jenna, and Mr. Bennett when Damon found her. He politely greeted them, and then he and Elena gave their condolences again before showing themselves out.

Damon dropped Elena off at home. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "I have some stuff I have to do," he explained vaguely.

She raised one eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Tidying up the place, cooking, generally setting the mood," he trailed off. She stared at him with intrigue and he smiled. "I want you to come over tonight."

The intrigue in her stare turned to near disbelief. "You're going to cook for me?"

He nodded proudly. "Why is that such a surprise? You know I can cook."

She laughed. "No it's not the cooking that's surprising, it's more the premeditated romance," she explained.

"Well, you must be something special then, huh?" She smiled at him. "Come by around seven."

She was grinning from ear to ear now. "Okay," she nodded. "Okay, I will."

Elena was awestruck as she watched him drive away, and turned to go inside.

***

It was just after seven when Elena stepped out of her car in front of the boardinghouse. The cool evening air almost made her shiver as it wrapped around her legs, which looked miles long, running from her black satin peep-toe heels to the hem of her short, deep sapphire halter dress. She was about to knock on the big wooden doors when she heard the loud music coming from inside. Elena pushed the door to find it was open, and after shutting it behind her she wandered to the kitchen.

She could have found it with her eyes closed—the warm aroma of tomato sauce on the stove was strong. She walked in to see Damon, adding a dash of what looked like oregano to the pot. He must have known she was standing behind him, because he picked up a small remote control and turned down the music, and then he spoke. "Well, shit, is it seven already?"

Elena smiled. "About ten after, actually."

Damon turned to look at her and his jaw nearly dropped. She had placed her purse on a chair and was now taking off her leather jacket—god, how he loved that leather jacket on her—to reveal her bare, olive shoulders. Every inch of her was perfection, he thought. Her lips were glossy, and she pursed them into a sultry pout when she noticed he was so enthralled in them. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes were swept with silvery, smoky shadow and mascara, and her dark chocolate hair was full of body, framing her perfect, round face.

Of course, he gathered his cocky composure shortly. "Well, I feel a little underdressed," he said as he turned off the stove. He was still wearing the green sweater from earlier that day, but the sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and there was a red spot from the sauce by the collar. He walked up to her and cupped her face gently in his hands. "You look gorgeous," he said before leaning in to kiss her gently.

She licked her lips. "You taste good," she cooed.

He hummed an appreciative _mm_. "Not so bad yourself," he said with a grin. "I'm going to go change. Help yourself," he said, motioning to the bottle of wine on the counter beside the stove. "Glasses are on the table."

Elena watched him speed off, and then poured herself a modest glass of the pinot noir. Of course, she thought. She glanced at the bottle and saw the year—1991. She breathed in the wine's scent—which was very subtle—and took a sip.

"Like it?" Damon asked, suddenly behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and caressed her midriff with his hand. He pushed her hair to one side with his other hand and kissed her neck.

She nodded. "It's silky," she added. He murmured a sound of agreement against her flesh. "This wine is older than I am, you know," she said breathlessly as he kissed her lightly up and down her neck.

He laughed a little. "Barely," he said. He moved around her so that he was facing her. "Shall we?" He motioned to the table.

"Sure," she happily agreed. She took a seat where she had found her glass and lay her napkin across her lap. Damon had set his glass, half-full, at the head of the table. There were two white candlesticks in antique bronze candle holders. Damon followed her to the table and set down the bottle of wine, then returned to the stove to make their plates.

He'd changed into a crisp, gray button-down shirt and a black tie. His hair looked as though he'd tousled it a bit when he'd gone upstairs. She swallowed a giggle at the idea of Damon primping himself in front of the mirror for her. She'd taken at least an hour to get ready. Damon looked like perfection after mere minutes.

He came back to the table with two plates of ravioli, smothered in the delicious tomato sauce. He set them down on the table, and then quick as a flash, fetched a basket of Italian bread and a butter dish. He struck a match to light the two candles with a fascinating sort of efficiency. Then he sat down in his seat and pulled hers slightly closer to himself.

Elena smiled and held her glass up. "Cheers," she said.

Damon clinked his glass against hers. "Cheers," he agreed, and then leaned in for yet another incredible kiss. His tongue poked through her lips and swept over hers with soft intensity.

"Dig in," he said when the kiss finally broke.

Elena tasted a bite of ravioli. "Oh my god," she said as she chewed. "It's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "Of course, I only had time to make the store-bought stuff. Someday I'll make you real ravioli."

"What, from scratch?" she asked. He nodded. "You can make pasta from scratch?" she asked, eyes wide with enamored wonder. Everything she found out about Damon drew her closer to him, even the not-so-pleasant things.

"I learned back sometime in… I guess the early fifties," he began. And as he began, Elena experienced a wave of excitement. She realized this would be the first of many, many stories she would hear from Damon about his long life's many exploits. She rested her head in her hand and engrossed herself. "I had this friend, Jack, up in New Jersey. He was Irish, but his mother-in-law was from Brooklyn, and she was just the most Italian mother you can think of. She was a sweet lady. She adored me, too, of course—_Damon Salvatore_, the charming Italian boy," he flashed a gorgeous smile before going on. "And his mother-in-law would come to Jack's house and she and Annie, his wife, would make pasta and lay it out on the bed."

"On the bed?" Elena repeated him.

"Yeah," he explained. "They would put the ravioli on these sheets of paper to dry. And once in a while I'd help them out. Most of the time, Jack and I would just sit and listen to the radio, ballgames and stuff. He was a good guy. He was a little shaky after World War II, but he was a good guy."

"Wow," Elena breathed, trying to really understand the amazing reality of it all, that this ostensibly young man in front of her had really lived through those times. "Where is he now?"

"He died about fifteen years ago. Last time I was up there I met his daughter. Of course, I didn't tell her I knew Jack or anything. Annie had died just a few months before I talked to the daughter," he explained.

Elena's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry," she offered lightly.

He shrugged. "You get used to it," Damon said. Elena believed him, but she was sure there was always some pain in losing people. Even for Damon.

She placed her hand on his for a moment in some attempt at comfort that they both knew wasn't necessary. Then she went back to the most divine ravioli she'd ever tasted. They talked and laughed as they ate their dinner. Elena finished the glass of silky wine and Damon poured her another. He told her more stories, and talked about the music that was playing—who he'd heard live, who he'd listened with…

"The iPod is incredible," he explained. "I've got a century of music—more—on that tiny little thing. It never ceases to amaze me."

She smiled. "It's pretty cool," she agreed. Their plates were empty by then, and a new track started.

"Frank," he said. "One of my absolute favorites," he added. Damon scooted his chair out and dropped his napkin on the table. He stood up and extended his hand toward her. "Well, Miss Gilbert, you left me hanging at the sock hop; I'd say you owe me a dance," he said with a classic Damon smile.

Elena laughed as she took his hand reflexively. He pulled her up from her seat and into his arms with one swift motion. Elena seemed to melt into his arms—she felt as though there was nowhere on Earth she should be rather than in his arms, dancing beside the dining room table. Damon's lips were mouthing the lyrics. She could tell he was also, just barely, whispering them—not because she could hear it, but because she could feel the breath on her own lips, only inches away.

And as the song picked up and really started to swing, he held her tighter and they were _really_ dancing. They spun, frames locked loosely, his arm around her waist, her arm around his shoulder, and their other hands joined beside their shoulders. His eyes were fixed on hers, and behind his elated stare was an underlying earnestness. In that moment, he knew that he would have no problem whatsoever with never letting her go, just holding her and swaying for eternity. Elena was everything that he'd forgotten about humanity over the decades upon decades of primal, vampiric hunting. Everything about her was alive, and as she smiled in his arms, and the song ended in a light note, he was sure that he could never be without her.

And then, for the first time all night, Damon's eyes shifted from hers. His expression changed from one of adoration to one that she couldn't recognize, not at first. But when she turned to see what he was looking at, it was clear to her—Damon had been giving a sort of arrogant warning with his eyes. Stefan was standing in the doorway behind her. His fangs poked out from beneath his lips, and his eyes were black, surrounded by the angry red veins she'd seen before.

"Stefan," she said, but the name had barely escaped her lips when he seemed to vanish. The front door was wide open when she ran to it. "Stefan!" she called after him helplessly.

Damon walked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, holding onto her. "Don't bother," he explained. "He's certainly not going to come running back to this candle-lit scene."

Elena turned back to Damon with a sadness in her eyes that was agonizing to him. "Where is he going to go, Damon?"

He was almost confused at her worry. "Elena, he lived pretty comfortably in the shadows for a long time. He can make it one night." The reminder was enough to make her come back in the house. He closed the front door and locked it. "Come on," he started with a smile, "let's have another glass of wine and go upstairs." He twirled one of her satiny tresses around his finger.

Elena smiled meekly and nodded. Let him go back into the shadows, she thought. The coward couldn't even show up at the wake. He was making it hard for her to give a damn anymore.

She and Damon walked back to the table where he picked up the bottle of pinot noir and his glass. Elena picked her own glass up and followed him upstairs.

***

He was hardly man any longer. He was some creature. And the creature wanted blood. He crawled out of the shadows and saw her. She was a student at the high school. She was pretty small, with seemingly dark hair, but it shone red when she ran through scattered beams of moonlight. She didn't hear him coming.

It had been so long since he hunted man that it took him a minute to decide exactly how to start. He could drop on her from above and dig his fangs into her throat before any scream could ever escape it. He could frighten her into thinking her mind was playing tricks on her, and then finally show himself and absorb the horror that would undoubtedly be on her face, and listen to her helpless cries before he devoured her. He could compel her—he wouldn't even have to kill her—he wouldn't even have to hurt her; he could convince her that she wanted it. But was there any satisfaction in that? What he wanted, what this hulking, starving, beastly abomination in the mere shell of a man wanted, was to kill.

He waited for her to look away, even for a moment, so he could begin. And she did. When she looked back at the path ahead of her only to see him, she halted, stumbling and falling to her knees with a startled yelp. She didn't see him smile at the thought that already, with so little effort, he had her in his trap. He walked toward her slowly as she stood up, brushing bits of gravel from her scraped knees. She was hardly bleeding, but the smell intoxicated him. Still, he kept himself under control.

"Are you alright?" he asked her with more seduction in his voice than concern.

She was not afraid, but rather embarrassed at having fallen in front of such a gorgeous being. "Yeah," she said. "You kind of… came out of nowhere," she added with a laugh.

He smiled, but didn't laugh. He knew he was probably looking at her as though she was a meal, but she would never have known the difference. "Sorry if I frightened you," he lied.

"It's okay," she assured him. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and back again. On her feet were what looked like barely-worn running shoes, and she wore very short mesh shorts. She had a gray hoodie zipped part of the way up over a brightly colored sports bra. "I'm Hallie," she said, and extended her hand to him.

He shook it. "Stefan."

Hallie smiled. "Yeah, I've seen you around with Elena. People said you weren't in school today," she said.

"Yeah," he said, caught off-guard by the mention of her name. "I wasn't really feeling up to it."

"I didn't see you at Bonnie's, either. I was kind of surprised—I'd heard you guys were friends," she continued. Stefan nearly frowned at this. "But I mean, I thought you'd show up with Elena."

He took a step toward her without thinking. "You saw her there?" he demanded, probably too forcefully.

Hallie swallowed. "Yeah, she was with…" She stopped. She couldn't bring herself to speak… or move. Everything began to happen so quickly that she could hardly think fast enough to scream.

His fangs elongated as the veins surrounded his eyes again as she stopped talking. "Good girl," he snarled. He lowered his mouth to her neck and touched his fangs to her flesh so that a drop of blood surfaced. He licked it away with the tip of his tongue and closed his eyes. His mind raced.

The taste of fresh blood brought the memory of the first taste of blood, and the impossible delicacy it had so quickly become for him. The whinnying of the horses that ran off without riders after Stefan had swept them clean off the saddle. The look of fear in the eyes of those that had become his first meals. The unsettling way that his satiated hunger overpowered any remorse or guilt for having taken these innocent lives. As he was about to sink his teeth into her veins, and she finally managed a scream, the next image plagued his memory—Katherine's face, the first time she had shown her true form before him… the beginning of that horrible, twisted path that became his damned life. He had been innocent, once. Of course, he didn't plan on turning Hallie, or leading her on in any way, but somehow, he couldn't help but see himself becoming the heartless… thing that Katherine was, preying on the innocent.

He fell. The veins disappeared and his fangs retreated painfully. He was at her feet, his head in his hands. She stumbled, nearly paralyzed with terror.

He looked up at her and took her hand frantically in both of his. "I'm so sorry," he practically sobbed. "Please… please forgive me!" Hallie staggered backwards, wanting suddenly to retreat, but Stefan held on. "Please!"

"Let go of me!" she cried. Hysterical tears of panic were streaming from her eyes.

He scrambled to his feet and took hold of her shoulders. She kept crying and struggling for a minute until he finally managed to compel her again. Her cheeks were tearstained, but the emotion had left her face entirely. "You never saw me tonight," he said, trying to steady his own voice. "You were running through the wood when you tripped and skinned your knee. You will go home and forget about anything that happened between us, and you will be careful in the future not to run through the wood alone at night." Hallie nodded like some mindless drone, and when she started running off for home, he was already gone.

In another minute, he was at Wickery Bridge. It wasn't far. He looked into the water and remembered pulling the beautiful, unconscious body onto land. She had needed him then. His Elena had needed him. Was it true that she really didn't need him anymore? _St. Stefan_. The name his brother had so mockingly given him all those years ago… was it perhaps more accurate than he'd thought?

How quickly he had been able to forget Elena when Bonnie had been so small and helpless in his arms just two nights before. Bonnie. The thought of her warmed him. He tread back into the wood. "Tomorrow," he told himself aloud. Tomorrow he would be there.

* * *

Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 7:

"Sweet Nothin's," Brenda Lee  
Elena drives away from the boarding house - Caroline calls

"Bad Boy," the Jive Bombers  
Jenna and Jeremy leave for the wake - Damon and Elena leave for the wake

"Ain't No Sunshine," Bill Withers  
Damon and Elena walk to the Bennetts' house - "Goodbye" to Grams

"Look What You've Done," Jet  
"So where's Stefan?" - Damon drops Elena off at home

"Come and Get Your Love," Redbone  
Elena watches Damon drive away - "Like it?"

"Always You," Sophie Zelmani  
"Shall we?" - A new track starts

"At Long Last Love," Frank Sinatra  
A new track starts - Elena follows Damon upstairs

"Lover I Don't Have to Love," Bright Eyes  
Stefan is hardly a man anymore - He remembers Katherine's face

"House Fire," Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin  
He falls to her feet - end of chapter

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_Hope you enjoyed this nice, long chapter. Please keep all the wonderful **reviews** coming. I'd love to hear what you guys think, your predictions, and your suggestions! I know you're all patiently awaiting the lemons. Ah, you fiends. I promise you a tall, cool glass of lemonade in the upcoming chapter. I do believe it will quench your thirst!_


	8. Satisfaction

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "The Vampire Diaries" or any of its characters. Insert witty comment here that none of you really care about since you hate me.**

_Oh my god, guys. I don't deserve your respect. I don't even deserve your reading this A/N right now! I am scum, plainly and simply. So, so sorry. First it was a lack of enthusiasm/inspiration that got in the way of updating. When the show came back from the hiatus, I had a hard time getting back into the mindset of my little world here. Then, school (particularly finals) got in the way. After finals were over, I had to bring my computer in to be fixed and that took a number of weeks. And of course, when I finally got it back, I had very little time before I fled the country. Just kidding. But I am abroad. Partially to hide from the pitchfork-and-torch-wielding mob that might have formed since you all should hate me. And partially to study. Okay, mostly to study, but the mob thing too. Again, guys, I'm really sorry, and I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm merely trying to explain why it took me so long. It's all on me, and I'm really very sorry about that. I decided to split up what I have written into two chapters so I can give you guys more than one dose. I have so much schoolwork to do (which is totally killing me since it is SUMMER… I really cannot adapt to this crazy schoolwork-during-the-summer lifestyle) but I'm really trying to keep working on this much as I can. Oh my god. I should shut up now, right? Right. On with the show._

**Blah-blah, wit-wit, here is sex:**

* * *

At first, Elena was slowly, diligently following him from the kitchen, but it gradually became a playful race to the bedroom. Of course, he could have sped up to vampire speed and crossed the finish line before she could bat an eye, but he chose to play along, She wasn't drunk per se, but the dark, smooth wine certainly intensified the romance as the familiar and unyielding lust built up between them.

Elena giggled as she tried to pass him on the stairs, but he pushed his arms out to block her. She faked left, and when he tried to stand in her way, she ducked to the right and slipped under his arm.

She made it to the darkened room first.

He had her against the wall and pushed his mouth onto hers as he pulled her dress up to her waist. His tongue slid between her lips and he savored the taste of the pinot noir fresh on her tongue. Elena couldn't think straight as he kissed her, his mouth open wide, his tongue probing hers and swirling around it with more power than she thought anyone, even a vampire, could put into a kiss. Normally when Elena kissed someone, she couldn't help but compare him to those that had come before him. She had compared Stefan to Matt, Matt to those before him… But with Damon, she simply couldn't compare his kiss to anyone else's. It wasn't a conscious decision not to compare him; Damon just wouldn't let her. It wasn't through compulsion or persuasion—Damon was just that _good_.

His hands found her thong and broke the kiss only to pull it down her legs and over her black heels. She kicked it away and he rose back to kiss her again. He wasn't patient enough to do one thing at a time—while his tongue explored the back of her mouth once again, he fumbled with his belt, finally unbuckling it and unbuttoning his pants.

Elena moved her hands to his waist to push his jeans down, but he caught her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand. He had been very, very patient all day. He'd controlled himself when she was nearly naked in her bedroom. He'd controlled himself when he'd dropped her off at home, even looking as absolutely gorgeous as she had. He'd controlled himself when she walked into the kitchen, looking even _more _beautiful (if it were possible). He'd controlled himself when he was romancing her at dinner. Now, he decided, he was through controlling himself—he'd rather control _her_.

Damon overcame the handicap of using one hand quickly and pushed his jeans down so that his almost aching hard-on was fully out. He ran his free hand up her thigh and brought his lips to her ear. "You're so hot tonight," he whispered. His breath tickled her ear and raised the hairs on the back of her neck. "It was hell fighting the urge to just take you on the table." She moaned as he stroked her thighs with his fingertips. His hand was so close to her mound that she could feel the heat of his fingers, but it was nothing compared to the heat he felt radiating from her.

Elena was impatient. She struggled to pull her wrists from Damon's grip, but to no avail. He was in charge now. He grinned at her pathetic effort when they both knew damn well she had no chance at freeing herself. They both also knew that, truthfully, Elena didn't want to free herself. The thought of being under Damon's complete control—physically, at least—was turning her on just as much as the wine, or the chase, or the feeling of his fingers on her skin. And that's why she continued struggling. Whether or not she'd admit it, she _got off_ on his total dominance.

And of course, he was getting off on it too. The impatient, desperate look on her face, the way she bit her lip and threw her head back in eager anticipation, was all that was keeping him from giving in to his urges then and there. He savored her frustration. By now, Elena had stopped trying to free her hands and instead was trying to push herself down as much as she could, to push her groin against his fingers and close her legs around them. She told herself to be coy, to be seductive, to play hard-to-get somehow, but it was hopeless. She didn't have that kind of discipline. She was utterly consumed by the desire, no, the need for his touch on her starving, wet cunt.

Elena thought of the first time, of his insisting that she ask. Without hesitation, she groaned. "Damon, please," she begged.

Her eyes were shut tight with aggravation, so she didn't see his satisfied smirk. He had to admit, he wanted it just as badly as she did. But he wasn't about to give up yet. "Please what, Elena?" He drew the name out with particular sensuality, knowing that the sound of her name on his lips drove her wild.

Her reaction did not disappoint. She bucked her hips toward him. His cock, if it were possible, stiffened even more. Elena was past the point of self-consciousness, of stupid pride. She tried to articulate her words as best she could. "I need you inside me," she whined.

Damon was going crazy on the inside, but he took deep breaths to keep his composure, though he knew they did nothing. Still, he always felt the need to breathe around Elena. He felt life all around him whenever she was there, and he clung to it desperately then just as he always did in her presence. She was still pushing her hips forward as he drew his fingers away abruptly.

"No!" she argued, and Damon smiled at her plea. She was at the end of her rope. Swiftly, energy built up inside her and she exerted it all at once. She wriggled wildly in his grip, trying to pull her arms down, even trying to scratch at his hand with her fingernails, but it was no use. At the same time she was straining her arms to move toward him, taking a baby-step forward and trying to close the gap between her moist lips and his face. Her whole body was fighting his hold on her, but there was no hope. Elena was panting wildly and about to burst, swinging her head back and growling with frustration.

Damon's eyes widened as the feeling took her body over, as she writhed and tensed and twisted before him. He licked his lips as he ran his hand from her hip to her knee and pulled her thigh up onto his hip. With both of his hands occupied, he entered her forcefully and at once her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open in the loudest cry he'd ever coaxed from her. He pushed into her again, deeper this time.

"Damon," she gasped. She couldn't get enough of him. Her pulse was racing and he felt so good as he pushed into her. He slid in and out of her smoothly and at an easy pace. Then, through gritted teeth, she begged, "Harder."

Damon grinned and indulged her. He pumped into her a little further, and quickened his pace slightly. A tiny smile appeared on her lips and she pushed forward, trying to get even closer to him. She was still trying to pull her wrists from his hold.

"Faster," she demanded breathlessly.

Damon's smile widened and he moved to whisper in her ear, though the feeling of her around his cock was so amazing that the words came out in a grunt. "You sure?" he teased her.

She clenched her jaw and moaned again. "Damon, faster," she managed to reply. "Please," she added.

The magic word, he thought. And from Elena's lips it was an aphrodisiac. "Baby, you asked for it," he said, burying his face in her hair for a moment as he picked the pace up considerably. When he heard her gasp, though, he had to see her face. Her eyes were wide and her lips parted as she cried out.

"Fuck! Damon!" His name echoed through the old house like a peal of thunder. She closed her eyes tight and he brought his mouth to hers and drove his tongue inside just as forcefully as he was fucking her. Elena was ravenous. As soon as she felt his tongue in her mouth she closed her lips around it and sucked on it longingly.

He groaned against her mouth, and she stopped to take a deep breath. Her face was wrought with the overwhelming feeling of his cock pumping into her so quickly. "I… I told… you, Elena…" he muttered smugly between thrusts. He was dying to let go of her wrists so he could pull her even closer to him, maybe hold her up so she could wrap her legs around him—then he could _really_ hit some sweet spots.

But as he worked the ideas over in his head, she spoke again. "Harder." It was barely a whisper. Of course, he'd heard it clearly, but he could hardly believe it.

"What?" he asked her, somewhat confused.

She bit her lip for a moment between staggering breaths. "Harder, Damon!" she repeated herself, this time shouting.

He was taken aback, and hesitated a moment before he could do anything. But it was only a moment. And then he pushed into her as far as he could go. He hadn't planned on letting her wrists go yet, but the near-scream that came from her was too much. "Shit, Elena," he murmured as he brought his hand down and brought it to the back of her neck. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and dug her fingernails into his back. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pressed his forehead to hers. They stared into each other's eyes as he pushed into her with what was nearing inhuman force and speed. "Am I… hurt—hurting… you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"No," she muttered. As he let her hair go and pulled her other leg up she threw her head forward and bit down between his neck and shoulder and muffled her shouting slightly against his skin. Her legs were wrapped tightly around his waist now.

It took everything he had not to bite her back. He'd spent many years perfecting the art of keeping his fangs and true visage under wraps, even in the most… tempting of situations. If he didn't want them visible, then they weren't. It had been that simple for decades. But now, the control seemed to be slipping away as Elena's perfect little teeth clamped on his neck. He couldn't risk it. He pulled away from the door and cupped her ass in his hands. The loss of support on her back surprised her enough to pull her head back, just as he had hoped.

He stood there with her and pulled her down to meet every thrust. Her nails scratched his back. Her legs tightened around him. She leaned in to try and kiss him but all she could bring her mouth to do was bite. She bit down on his lip. He groaned as she drew blood. She hadn't meant to, and it wasn't much, but he bled just the same. And maybe she didn't notice, or maybe she didn't care, but she sucked on his lip.

And Damon heard the faintest sound from her throat. It was one that a human never would have heard—especially over their relentless panting. But he heard it, and he knew just what it was. It was the tiniest hum—just a trace of an _mm_…

"Oh, fuck, Elena…" he said through his teeth. In an instant they were horizontal. She hardly had the time to realize her back was against the bed—where he'd wanted her all along. He drove into her and moved his fingers down to her clit. As he massaged the little bud, he sent her reeling. In fact, he was so close and overwhelmed himself that he could hardly believe he had the ability to concentrate on her clit at all. Still, he worked at it relentlessly. "Come for me," he demanded, while simultaneously trying to delay his own release a little.

She grabbed the sheets beneath her and held them in a white-knuckled grip. Her legs were still wrapped around him and she clung to his waist as he sent her over the edge. Her whole body shook and her walls pulsed around Damon's length and head as he kept thrusting into her. "Oh my god," she gasped as her orgasm sent tremors over her body. "Oh, Damon," she said, releasing the sheets and wrapping her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her soft, sweet hair and breathed hard against her neck. "I love you," she said between heaving breaths, "so, so much." She twisted her fingers into his hair and rode out the orgasm.

Her words—and her fingers—were beginning to push him over the edge. "Elena—oh—I…" he started as he pulled out of her suddenly and quickly, though he couldn't stand the idea of not being inside her. He wanted more of her, and he needed to get himself under control. Damon enveloped her in his arms and held her close against his chest, pressing kisses against her forehead, and down her cheek, and on her lips. "I love you more than you know."

She smiled. "I would never have pegged you for quite this sweet, Damon," she said. He started to laugh. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head as he continued the almost giddy laughter. "You're going to be mad at me," he explained.

Her lips made a twisted little smile. "Tell me!" she insisted.

He spoke as he rolled her onto her back. "I don't think we're where you think we are."

Elena raised an eyebrow at him playfully, and then her eyes widened as she sat up and took in the room for the first time. It had been too dark at first, and by time her eyes had adjusted she had been far too overcome with ecstasy to realize it.

They were in Stefan's room. She clapped a hand over her mouth but Damon saw her eyes smile. He rolled his eyes and laughed at her. "I knew you'd love it."

Her eyes widened and she slapped his shoulder with the hand she'd been using to cover her mouth, but the smile remained. "Shut up! I can't believe you didn't say anything!"

"Oh I _said_ plenty, baby. I think you know by now that you do that to me," he said as he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Elena tried to pout but it was lost in her unyielding smile. The wine still had her swimming and after the way Stefan had been acting, she had little regard for his feelings. "You know what I meant, pig," she replied. She leaned down to him and placed a kiss on his nose.

"Mm-hmm," he nodded. "You said a mouthful too, darling," he said in the same snarky tone. She blushed. "Oh now you're bashful?" he teased. He rolled her over onto her back again and propped himself up on his elbow to let his face hover over hers. "Screaming _my_ name in _his_ bed," he whispered with a grin. "More than I could ask for."

"You asked for it plenty," she reminded him.

He kissed her. "I believe we can call them suggestions," he corrected her. "You, on the other hand, did not ask _or_ suggest. You demanded, missy." She raised an eyebrow at him in confusion. "Harder… faster… harder…" he mocked her earlier words with heaving breaths. She blushed once again. "It was _very_ sexy," he whispered into her ear, and then nipped at the lobe.

Her smile was shy. "I couldn't really help it," she admitted timidly.

Damon closed his eyes and inhaled as though he were breathing her in. "I'm glad," he said. "I was going a little crazy keeping those hands of yours away," he said, taking hold of one and lacing their fingers together, keeping his composure as well as he could.

Elena squeezed his hand gently and let her free fingers tiptoe down his chest. "Why's that?" she asked. He nearly shivered at her light touch and gave her a questioning look, silently asking for elaboration. "Why would it be hard to keep them away?" she asked, her voice filled with feigned innocence that made his hard-on throb. Or it might have been the fact that her fingers were now wandering down his happy trail.

But whatever the cause, the effect was prominent. He slid his hand up her thigh but she stopped it halfway. He pouted as she shook her head and stood up.

"Not in here, Damon," she explained, and extended her hand to help him up. He sighed and took it, following her out of Stefan's room and into his own. She switched the light on and looked at him, pants unbuckled and barely hanging onto his hips. Elena reached around her neck to untie the halter strap of the dress. "Let's get rid of this pesky thing," she said as she unzipped the little blue number and let it slide off of her body.

Damon smirked and walked toward her, and in an instant he had her pinned on the bed. "I wouldn't mind slipping into something more comfortable myself," he said, sliding his hand down her belly. She pushed him up and loosened his tie with a grin. He yanked the tie off and she laughed as she struggled with the buttons of his shirt. He quickly reprieved her and rid himself of the grey button-down.

"Your bad-boy black tee-shirts are easier," she laughed as he peeled off a white undershirt to reveal his perfect chest and abs.

He grinned. "I could put one on if you'd like," he said.

Elena narrowed her eyes playfully. "Come here," she demanded.

"Yes ma'am," he agreed happily. He moved toward her and she grabbed his jeans, yanking them down over his knees. He kicked them off and quickly removed her little black strapless bra before laying her down on the bed.

He hovered over her with his usual intensity, the tip of his hard cock leaving a tiny trail of pre-cum on her hip bone. He lowered himself onto her and pressed his moist lips against her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair, her blood, her skin, her arousal. It all combined to make the most incredible scent—certainly the most enticing one he'd ever noticed in a woman. But then, Elena couldn't be compared to other women. She was in a class of her own. And beautiful, too—god, was she beautiful, he thought. He was getting lost in his thoughts, so wrapped up in her perfection that he nearly forgot about his aching erection until she pulled him toward her by the hips. "You feel so amazing," she muttered as she tried to guide him to her.

"You don't feel so bad yourself," he said, attempting a witty retort through staggered breathing that was too honest. He brought his cock to her entrance once again and pushed himself inside her. She gasped and threw her head back as he entered and began pushing, increasing his pace little by little. It only took a few moments to bring him to capacity. "Fuck, Elena," he muttered under his breath as he pumped into her almost as quickly as he had been in Stefan's room. And all at once, she began pulsing around his dick again, pushing him to climax. They came together without a word between the two of them, just the gasping breaths they were each heaving.

They lay there together for a few minutes in silent bliss before Elena could bring herself to say what needed to be said. "I have to go," she muttered.

Damon shut his eyes woefully at the thought. "Stay," he said.

She pouted. "I can't. Jenna is being way too cool about all this; I don't want to take advantage." She sat up slowly.

"I'll drive you," he insisted.

"I'm not drunk," she argued.

He mulled the thought around in his mind for a moment, his eyes moving back and forth as though they were following it. "You're not sober," he replied decidedly.

Fair, she thought. "Alright," she agreed. "More time with you, anyway."

* * *

Elena was relieved that Jenna and Jeremy were already asleep when she arrived back at the house. She took a quick shower somewhat regretfully. She'd grown to hate washing Damon's scent off of herself, but took comfort in knowing it would only be a matter of time until he smothered her in it once again.

Tomorrow was Grams' funeral. Elena could hardly believe it. Bonnie seemed to be beyond consolation or comfort. The presence of Sheila's death was ominous, and try as she might, Elena couldn't shake the incessant and overbearing memory of the days after losing her parents.

She dried off and lay down in her bed naked, having recently found it the most comfortable way to sleep. She was so comfortable in her own skin. As she was imagining the feeling of Damon's arm draped over her chest, or his hand running along her thigh, she heard the creak of floorboards behind her. She turned and opened her eyes to see Damon standing there, ridding himself once again of his shirt and jeans, under which he hadn't bothered to wear anything.

Elena smiled sleepily and pushed the sheets down beside her to let him in. She turned over again and he settling himself behind her, pulling her firmly against his chest. He kissed her neck and nestled his head beside hers, breathing against her hair and skin. "Goodnight," he whispered, and placed his hand on top of hers.

She wove her fingers into his and felt his ring, the only thing worn between the two of them. She kissed it and closed her eyes. "I love you."

* * *

Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 8:

"If You Want Blood (You've Got It)," AC/DC  
The chase - "he needed to get himself under control"

"Love is Strange," Mickey & Sylvia  
Damon knows something Elena doesn't - Elena's fingers tiptoe down his chest

"Maps," the Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
"But whatever the cause, the effect was prominent." - heaving gasping breaths

"Dream a Little Dream of Me," the Mamas & the Papas  
Elena's house

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_Read and** review** if you'd like. I'm not going to beg because... well, I guess we've been through it. Once again, a hundred thousand apologies. Look forward to the next chapter soon : )_


	9. Goodbye

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. But lucky for you guys, I will continue to use them as my playthings until the cows come home.**

_So, I assume you're all rubbing your eyes or pinching yourselves to see if this is real... See? You're not dreaming. I've actually posted a new chapter in under two months. Proud of me? I opted out of a walking tour today because I am *sniff-sniff* sickly (which is true). So the downside: missing guided cultural immersion in the streets of a foreign city. The upside? You get a new chapter! Yay! ANYWAY. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter because, like Chapter 8, it's one that has been a work in progress for about... 3 months. Yikes! But I finally finished it. I had a tough time getting into this chapter, and I'm guessing you'll figure out why. I hope it's turned out well. It's sure to satisfy a particular demographic in my audience. A minority in my audience, but a portion of it nonetheless._

**Order up!**

* * *

The sky was appropriately grey, and there would have been a general atmosphere of gloominess even if they hadn't been in a cemetery, and even if they hadn't been gathering to lay an old woman to rest.

Bonnie sat between her mother, who had arrived late the night before, and her father. The priest's words were beautiful, though they were lost on her. She was in a daze, slightly oblivious to the happenings around her, aside from the obvious. Her mind was wrought with overwhelming grief.

Bonnie's cousin, an English major at George Washington University, stepped to the front of the crowd when the priest invited her up to speak. "Over the past several years, I have come to learn that my grandmother led an exceptional life. Whether it is fate or simply time, something seems to prevent children from truly understanding their grandparents until the chance has passed, or nearly passed…" All in attendance were moved and touched by her words as she spoke.

But the speech was a blur, just as the rest of the day morning had been. Bonnie couldn't be sure how long it was or how much had truly been said before the coffin was lowered into the grave.

Only a few months earlier, Bonnie had thought her grandmother to be, well, exactly that—a grandmother. And, like so many teenagers did, Bonnie had loved her grandmother just as much as she was required to. Over the past few months, though, Sheila had become so much more. She became a guardian, and a guide. She'd become a teacher and a confidant; a trusted friend. Bonnie couldn't bear the idea of letting Grams go.

But just the same, the great wooden chest went into the Earth. Her mother cried, and her father choked a few tears. Bonnie simply stood between them, unable to cry, hardly able to act at all, and looked on as they scattered the dirt over the coffin. She heard scattered sobs and sighs from throughout the mass of people, and then all at once, it seemed it was time to move. Her mother and father walked to the old, black limousine that had brought them there. Bonnie followed them, as did the eyes of every other mourner.

The service had come to a close. Bonnie's mother pulled her into a hug and petted her hair. She let her go only as her friends walked over. "Go on, honey," her mother dismissed her gently.

When Bonnie was approached by the group of friends, Caroline's were the first set of arms thrown around her. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie," she whispered in her friend's ear as she held on to her. "It was beautiful though, the funeral I mean," she said.

Bonnie nodded when Caroline finally released her. "Thanks, Caroline," she said genuinely. Matt threw an arm around Bonnie's shoulder and pulled her in to his chest, and said he was sorry too. Then, just as Bonnie was walking to Elena, she saw someone standing beside the grave—a tall figure, almost a silhouette, throwing a flower in.

"Stefan," she breathed the name with disbelief and immediately began walking toward him. Elena looked at Damon with concern in her eyes. She wanted to follow Bonnie, but Caroline and Matt were already talking with her parents and she stayed a moment to give her condolences.

Stefan shifted and fidgeted uncomfortably as Bonnie neared him. They were more or less alone by the grave—everyone else had gone to the parking lot to talk with Bonnie's family and one another. His eyes wouldn't meet hers, and though his gaze shifted considerably, it was clear he was focused on Elena and Damon.

Bonnie choked back tears as she spoke. "Where have you been?" she asked him helplessly.

He shifted his weight and avoided her stare still. "I just had to get out of here for a while," he explained.

"I called you," she said, her voice trembling.

"Yeah," he answered, "I know."

Elena was headed over now. Bonnie had been worrying herself to tears over Stefan's absence, and he was finally in front of her. She couldn't help but hold onto him, pushing her arms beneath his and holding on to his waist. But he just stood there, watching as Elena drew closer. She was just a few feet behind Bonnie when they stopped.

"Thank you for coming," she said into his chest.

Stefan swallowed. "Yeah, well, I knew Sheila a long time ago," he said, trying to shrug her off.

Bonnie reluctantly released him, and sniffed. "Well, I appreciate it."

He looked at Elena, then at Sheila's grave, and then aside at nothing in particular. "I owed it to her," he added coldly before walking away. Elena was taken aback. She never thought she would see Stefan act so thoughtlessly, so distantly. She couldn't even bring herself to follow him or call after him. She simply stood there, dumbstruck, as he walked away from the scene.

The tears began to stream down Bonnie's face when Elena placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Bonnie," she said softly. "Please, he's upset with me and Damon," she insisted, trying to comfort her. It seemed to have the adverse effect; Bonnie began to sob. She turned around slowly and took hold of Elena's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

She took one deep breath and before she could think about it, she was talking. "Elena, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she wept.

"What?" Elena asked, confused. "Bonnie, what—"

Bonnie didn't give her time to finish. "We kissed," she blurted out.

Elena's eyes widened. "Stefan?"

Bonnie nodded frantically. "I'm so sorry. I don't even know why I did it. He was there, and I was alone, and Grams was gone, and—"

Elena stopped her and pulled her close. "Bonnie, shh, it's okay. It's okay, calm down," she said, rubbing her friend's back, and trying to process the news. It was unexpected, and it hurt a little, but she couldn't blame Bonnie for what happened. She could hardly even blame Stefan, though she truly wanted to; it was clear to her now just how quickly events could unfold in the heat of the moment.

Bonnie spoke again. "We didn't mean to hurt you. I swear, Elena, we didn't," she said, her deep breaths making her sound as though she were gulping for air.

Elena just nodded. "Bonnie, I know. _Believe me_, I know." They were silent for a few moments. "I just can't believe he's doing this to you," she said.

"I don't know what to do, Elena," Bonnie admitted. "He was always there. And now I need him more than ever," she said.

Elena swallowed hard. Bonnie was right. "I know. And I really don't understand how he can be so unfeeling."

The rest of the day had been hectic. Her parents invited everyone from the funeral to come over afterward, and Bonnie's house ended up being filled to what must have been capacity. Of course, the one person she needed was nowhere to be found. She spent the afternoon talking to everyone; cousins, other professors from the university, friends of her grandmother's… After the last few people finally trickled out of the house, an exhausted Bonnie retreated upstairs.

Bonnie entered her bedroom without turning on the lights. A breeze blew through her open window, along with the soft pink glow of the cloud-covered sunset. She lay face down on her bed and breathed in the cottony scent of her pillow.

Then the voice came from behind her. "I'm sorry."

Bonnie jerked up and turned to see Stefan at her window. He was holding himself up effortlessly, his hands on the windowsill. She was almost too startled to speak as she caught her breath. Stefan gave her a pleading look. "Come in," she offered weakly.

He crawled through the window and walked to the side of her bed. He looked at his feet like an awkward teenager. If the situation wasn't so terrible for her, she might have laughed at the irony.

"Can't you even look at me?" she said, mustering up anger to his surprise.

He slowly lifted his head and met her gaze for the first time in days. "I'm so sorry, Bonnie."

Bonnie sighed with distaste. "Those words are really getting exhausting," she admitted.

"No," he argued. "I mean, of course I'm sorry about Sheila, but that's not what I meant."

She stared at him. "Well you should be," she said matter-of-factly, getting up to stand before him and look him in the eye. "You took advantage of me."

He looked hurt, and she immediately noticed the pain in his eyes. "You know I didn't mean to do that," he argued softly.

"I know," she said. "I know you just felt sorry for me so you gave in—"

"Stop it," he said. "Just let me talk, would you?" She bit her lip and nodded. "I messed up. I shouldn't have kissed you that night," he said. Her eyes shut as the words hit her, and noticing this, he spoke again quickly. "But, that's just because you were vulnerable. I had no right to do that after what happened."

"But I wanted to. You know th—" she argued, but he cut her off.

"You couldn't have known what you wanted then. That night, something tragic happened to you. I shouldn't have kissed you," he said again.

Bonnie let the thought sit for a minute. "I told her," she confessed.

Stefan nodded. "I know you did."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. I was way out of line. You had every right to tell her," he said, then paused before starting again, more slowly. "She had every right to know."

The silence surrounded them once again. "What does this mean then?" she finally asked.

Stefan moved his hand to hers and stroked the back of it with his thumb. "I don't… I don't know how I'm going to deal with them, Bonnie," he said, his voice shaking. "It really hurts. But I just know that it felt very right to be with you. I felt needed," he explained as he brought his other hand up to her face. He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the single tear that fell at his confession.

"You were," she whispered. "You _are_."

The words brought a faint smile to his lips, but the seriousness in his expression remained as he leaned in to kiss her. Thought it had only been days since they'd kissed, Bonnie felt as though she'd been waiting an eternity to feel his lips again. They were so soft and gentle pressed against hers. She cupped his face in her hands and pushed into the kiss with more intensity. He tried to pull away from her, but she wouldn't let him. It had happened the first time as well—he had pulled away when his eyes grew dark. But, just as she had before, she held him close and waited.

After a few minutes, the veins disappeared around his eyes and he pressed his mouth to hers, sliding his tongue across her lips, willing her to open them so he could taste her. She let him in gladly and twirled her tongue around his. He knitted his fingers into her hair and pushed his tongue even further into her mouth.

Bonnie wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned to lay her down on the bed, but she stopped him and pulled back. As he was about to protest, she grabbed his tie and loosened it, giving him a look that said exactly what she wanted. Stefan smiled and promptly pulled his tie off. He began unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt and she got to work on the bottom ones. It wasn't long before his shirt joined his tie on the floor, and Bonnie peeled his white undershirt off, adding it to the pile.

She reached behind her to unzip her black pencil skirt but Stefan moved his hand around her waist first. He found the zipper and pulled it down, letting the skirt fall. Bonnie reached for his belt and as she unbuckled it, he kicked off his shoes. His belt dropped to the floor and Bonnie unbuttoned his black pants. Gravity did the rest—the pants fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them and kicked them aside, quickly pulling his socks off.

Bonnie could hardly contain herself before the nearly-naked Stefan. He stiffened inside his grey boxer-briefs and could smell her desire. He walked toward her and unbuttoned her black cardigan, slowly sliding it off. As it fell to the floor, he kissed her shoulder so lightly it sent shivers down her spine. His hand found the hem of her shirt as he trailed the kisses up her neck and ended at her lips once again. He pulled the black tank-top over her head and let it fall.

Stefan stepped forward, forcing her to stumble backwards onto the bed. He leaned down and kissed just below her bra, down her stomach to the top of her black tights. She shut her eyes in rapture at the tickle of his kisses. He pulled her tights down slowly until they too dropped to the floor. He stood up and stared down at her as she sat up at the edge of the bed.

Bonnie reached slowly for the waistband of his underwear and carefully pulled them down, exposing him fully to her. She let him shimmy out of his boxer-briefs and stared in awe at his body. He was flawless. His tattooed arms, his defined abs, his cut hips, his… _everything_. It was all incredible. He reached around her and unhooked her bra, pulling it off and casting it aside. Then he placed a strong hand on her shoulder and guided her down, once again, onto the bed. He kneeled at the edge of the bed and kissed just above the waist of her underwear, then moved down, placing light, breathy kisses on the thin layer of black cotton over her mound.

She trembled at his touch as he moved his fingers under the waistband. Bonnie lifted her hips, and Stefan slowly pulled her panties down, kissing her thighs, then her knees as he pulled them over her ankles and they finally fell to the floor. There was not a trace of clothing between the two of them now. He climbed on top of her and kissed her as his hand traveled down between her thighs. He found her clit immediately and massaged it gently, coaxing her to relax.

Bonnie wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved his fingers and their tongues tangled once again. He pulled away for a moment to look at her. Silently, his eyes asked her, _Are you ready?_

She nodded, and Stefan settled himself between her legs, pushing his hard-on into her carefully. She gasped. There was a straining, slightly aching feeling as she stretched to accommodate him, but it was quickly replaced by pleasure as he slid in and out of her slowly. Her eyelashes fluttered over her beautiful, brown eyes and she clung to him.

He clenched his jaw and muffled the moan that involuntarily came from him. Bonnie's parents were just down the stairs, and while he could easily compel them if they did hear or see anything, it was something he'd rather avoid altogether. It was proving to be difficult, though, since from the moment he entered Bonnie, he felt pleasure coursing through his veins, running all throughout his body. The way her sweet little arms clutched around his neck only made it better, just like the fluttering of her brown eyes and the quick breathing that moved her chest up and down. And with every sweet little breath came an audible gasp, just barely a moan. But each one echoed in his ears and pushed him closer to the edge.

She felt so tiny beneath him as he pushed into her, trying to be as gentle as he possibly could. It was like would do anything, go to any length necessary to make sure she would never be hurt again. He watched her bite her bottom lip and he closed his eyes and moved his lips to her ear. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Don't—" she tried to protest but could hardly string two words together as the feeling of him inside her became too intense to allow her to focus on anything else. As he moved in and out of her, the sensation of eminent climax built upon itself like a crescendo until they were both on the very edge of reality. He laced his fingers in hers and pressed her hand against the bed as he pumped into her more quickly.

Everything about it was smooth. He was powerful; something inherently athletic about every move he made, and yet each one was executed with such grace and comfort that she thought at that moment she truly understood that he was something more than human. And then all at once, it was like they'd struck a match. She couldn't help but moan his named as she had the most powerful orgasm of her life. She clung to him and whispered his name as her heart raced. Stefan pressed his mouth against hers as he came inside of her and groaned in elation.

They lay there for some time as the sun continued to set, catching their breath, tangled in each other, sweat coating their beautifully contrasted bodies. Stefan cradled her in his arms and kissed the top of her head as she was falling asleep, her eyes tired from staring at her desk. Her gaze had been fixed on the candles, which she hadn't remembered lighting, but nevertheless, there they were, glowing brightly, and dripping all over the little petals.

* * *

Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 9:

"Abide With Me," the Atlanta Singers  
The funeral service

"Anyone But You," Barbara West  
"Stefan" – "…how he can be so unfeeling."

"Fix You," Coldplay  
"She had every right to know" – dripping wax

* * *

_So... I hope your Befan thirst was slaked! I have to say, once I got the ball rolling on this one, I enjoyed writing it. Bonnie and Stefan sex is a bit more... shall we say, gentle than Delena sex. But let's face it, Delena sex is so much more delicious. I hope this was enjoyable, nevertheless! Would love to hear your feedback so **review** away, darlings!_


	10. To Tell the Truth

**OBVIOUSLY: I do not own "the Vampire Diaries," or any of the characters. But damn it, if they needed me to take over, I'd be ready.**

_Hello, darlings. I'm back in the States and loving my new desktop which is all the more reason for me to **write write write** (right?). So, while it took me a while to get the ball rolling on this chapter, once I started it took me about two days to bang it out. I'm quite pleased. I hope you guys are too. I don't know about you guys, but I've been watching "Pretty Little Liars," from the producers of TVD, and while nothing could ever fill the gap that TVD leaves when it's on a break... PLL is definitely addictive. I may have to write a one-shot or two for that show. ANYWAY. I know you all were very mature about dealing with Befan last chapter, so here comes some Delena lovin'. And let me say (if I may), **¡qué calor!** Enjoy! _

**Drum roll, please. Let's fire this bad boy up.**

* * *

The sun's glow was still quite soft when it came through Elena's bedroom window early that morning. All was still in the room... in the house. Just the soft, slow rise and fall of stomachs and chests as those in the house slept.

It had been about a week since the funeral—since Bonnie had gone to stay with her mother at her aunt's house. Stefan had gone with her. Bonnie told Elena that the last time the girls had talked, but that was the day after the funeral. They hadn't spoken since. And Stefan hadn't contacted Elena, Damon, or anyone else in Mystic Falls. "He's hurting," Bonnie had said to Elena.

"I know," Elena had agreed. Now Elena wished that Bonnie and she had been keeping in touch more, but she knew that it wasn't easy for Bonnie to steal away and talk to her. She'd be coming back eventually. The truth was, Elena had no idea when she's see Bonnie again. And she wasn't sure that she'd _ever_ see Stefan again. She tried to push it out of her mind, which wasn't particularly difficult with Damon around.

When her alarm went off that morning, Elena rolled over in bed in the best possible way—onto Damon. It had become a habit that he'd come to stay with her each night. Neither of them could bare waking up apart anymore. "Morning," she mumbled as she nuzzled against his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her. "Morning," he echoed as a smile came to him.

They lay there wrapped up in each other for about ten minutes, rubbing noses and kissing. It was never the kind of activity that Damon would have wanted to partake in, but with Elena, it seemed necessary. He had rediscovered the appeal of sentimentality with her. She'd gotten in the habit of setting her alarm a bit earlier—before Jenna or Jeremy woke up—so that they'd have the time to appreciate each morning.

Finally, she sighed, "Time for school." She climbed out of bed after a moment of playful struggling to break Damon's embrace.

He lounged in bed and watched her as she wandered around her room piecing together an outfit. She set a pair of jeans on her bed, and on top of those, a black v-neck tee-shirt. "Think you might be a little cold?" Damon asked playfully.

"Thanks, _Mom_," she kidded back to him, though the name felt awkward in her mouth. "I'll have my jacket. I have to shower," she said as she walked toward the bathroom. He cocked an eyebrow at her when she looked back over her shoulder at him. "Care to join me?" she asked with a twisted little smile.

Damon sprung up immediately—in more ways than one—and followed her to the bathroom. "Do you have to ask?" he replied. "So, the black v-neck, eh?" he joked. "I must be rubbing off on you. In more way than one," he added with a classic Damon smirk.

"Ha-ha," she teased back at him before kissing him lightly on the lips. "We have to be quick though. I do have to get to school," she insisted.

He pouted as she turned on the water, but it became a smile within moments. As the water heated up, he cradled her in his arms and pressed his mouth onto hers, prodding her tongue with his and fingering her dark hair. Their tongues danced for a few minutes, lightly at first, then with a more frantic thirst as Elena dipped her hand beneath the shower's stream. It was hotter than she'd expected and it caught her somewhat off-guard.

"Shit," she reacted as she pulled back. Instinctively, she brought the red tip of her index finger to her mouth and sucked.

Damon shook his head. "Allow me," he said as he reached for her wrist. He pulled her fingers to his lips and kissed the rosy, scalded fingertip. Elena stared at his mouth, fascinated, as he gently wrapped it around her finger. His tongue tickled her as it swirled over her flesh and she found herself completely entranced by the whole display. Finally he pulled her finger out again and kissed it delicately before asking, "Better?" She nodded.

He reached into the shower to test the temperature and toyed with the faucet. "How's that?" he asked. Hesitantly, she felt the spray with her other hand.

"Perfect," she answered. "You can feel how hot it is?" she asked, feeling like an idiot as she heard the words out loud.

He raised his eyebrows. "You're really asking me if I can feel?" he said with a laugh.

She shook her head, slightly embarrassed. "Stupid question."

They stepped into the shower. "I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, but most feelings hit me the same way they hit you. I'm just as sensitive as any other guy," he explained. "For example," he said with a grin, and then he pulled her wrist slowly toward his groin. He placed her hand on his length, rock-hard by now, and shivered slightly at her touch. "Did you feel that?"

She barely nodded, the feeling of his smooth cock beneath her hand leaving somewhat incapacitated. "You shuddered," she whispered. He nodded and stepped toward her, closing the space between them as the hot water poured over their bodies.

Damon couldn't bring himself to even think about the fact that Elena had to be at school in an hour. He took a deep breath beside her ear that made her whole body tingle. "I love your hands," he muttered. "Keep touching me." It was intended to be an instruction, but it came out sounding more like a plea. He was at her mercy—a state in which he was finding himself more often than he would admit with her.

She slid her hand down slowly and he closed his eyes in ecstasy. Her fingers brushed past his balls and his breath hitched. He was still anticipating a dominant touch, but she was teasing him, merely tracing lines up and down his length and along his inner-thighs. He bit his lip and his body shuddered once again. "Elena," he whispered. She felt her name on the shell of her ear and it seemed to resound throughout her entire body, quickly followed by the silent echo of, "Please."

Neither of them had any concept of time by that point—or, if they had, they certainly didn't care about it—and Elena wrapped her hand around Damon's cock forcefully. He pressed his face into her neck and groaned. At once she felt the familiar sense of pride in having control, though she had to stop and regain control over herself. She gathered her composure and began to pump her hand slowly. She couldn't do much since the water was proving to be a terrible lubricant, but he didn't seem to mind. He pressed his mouth against her skin to muffle his moaning as she worked his shaft. Damon continued to repeat her name; it was barely a whisper, but she knew it. It made her a little bit cocky as she tightened her grip just enough to push him to the point of total surrender. He reacted as expected.

Damon wrapped his arm around her and held on to the back of her neck, pulling her lips to his but lacking the proper concentration to actually kiss them. He merely let their mouths linger beside each other, just touching. His other hand shadowed hers, resting on her wrist as she pumped a little faster.

"Do you like this?" she asked, using the sexiest whisper she could muster up. He nodded his head, which was still nestled beside hers. Her body hummed. She brought her free hand to the base of his shaft and cradled his balls. He groaned a little more loudly. "How about this?" she asked, whispering right into his ear.

This time his answer was audible. "Uh-huh," he grunted.

But she pretended not to hear. "Do you like it?" she asked again as she squeezed his balls lightly.

"God," he managed to eke out, though he might have preferred some witty retort, "yes." She smiled at the bare, honest response.

"How much?" she asked, this time as though it were a challenge. He couldn't answer at first; he just chanted her name a bit. She cleared her throat as she let go of him. For a moment he was completely lost, but only until she pressed his back against the shower wall. She grabbed his balls once again and then thrust herself against him, pressing her belly against his eager hard-on. "How much?" she repeated with a more severe tone.

He was aching for her. He clenched his teeth and snarled, "Fuck, Elena. So much."

She brought her mouth to his ear and sucked on the lobe gently before whispering, "I'm going to make you come." His jaw would have dropped if he hadn't been gritting his teeth so adamantly. "Would you like that?" she teased even more seductively than before.

He nodded furiously. "Yes."

She smiled, completely unashamed by now of talking this way. No, she couldn't be ashamed in front of Damon. She wanted to bare all to him. There was nothing she couldn't do or say to him. "Good," she continued. "And you're going to let me know how you want me to do it, Damon."

The way she was talking to him was getting him off nearly as much as her hold on him. "Elena," he groaned.

"You've gotta want it, baby," she insisted. For a moment, he opened his eyes and caught her gaze. Her big, chestnut eyes were gleaming with something so characteristically _Elena_. They sparkled with vivacious humanity and in that brief moment Damon truly realized how very different from Katherine this girl was, and in that brief moment Damon realized how much more Elena meant than Katherine ever had.

He needed her so badly. "Oh, Elena," he panted. She nodded her approval at him. "Suck," he pleaded, only able to manage one word at a time. "Please," he begged with a hint of desperation in his voice.

She smiled as she looked at him; he was practically helpless. It reminded her of their first night together, of how he'd laid everything out on the table, unashamed and honest. She couldn't help but comply. Elena dropped to her knees and swallowed his length. It was all Damon could do not to scream her name as she gulped down on him.

Elena felt his whole body quiver each time her mouth went down and she knew that he wasn't far. She released him just for a moment and took him into her hand again as she gazed up at him with big, round eyes and asked, "How's this?" with more feigned innocence than he could bare. He nearly laughed.

"You're… kidding…" he gasped as she wrapped her mouth around him again. God, he loved this girl. He pulled himself out of her mouth and she gave him a curious stare. He lowered himself, careful not to move too fast since he would probably have lost his footing, to sit on the floor of the tub beside her. It was a moderately sized bathtub; there was just enough room for the two of them. He lay back and pulled her on top of him, kissing her desperately. "I want to come inside you," he told her as he took hold of her hips.

"Damon," she whispered as she let him guide her. He took his cock in his hand and found her opening, not giving her more than a moment before pulling her down onto him. She gasped as he entered her but she had clearly been just as turned on by her domineering performance as he had. He slid in effortlessly and she immediately began riding him determinedly. It only took seconds to bring her as close as he was. "Oh, Damon," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm… I'm…"

He nodded, egging her on. By now he was doing more work than she was—his strength was lifting her up and down at an incredible speed. "What, Elena?" he urged her to say the words.

She let her head fall beside his as his hands continued to bring her hips up and down. "Damon, I'm gonna… I'm coming," she whispered huskily into his ear.

He loved hearing her say it. "Come on, baby," he pushed her so she was sitting upright again and he could see her face. "I love watching your face when you come," he grunted. "You close your eyes but I always watch you," he added. She blushed, but it was fleeting. She knew what he wanted to hear.

She met his gaze with sultry eyes, still breathing heavily as he picked up the pace and bucked his hips against her. "I love…" she began, "the way you look when fuck me." He threw his head back and clenched his jaw. He bucked against her even harder and groaned as she spoke. He could hardly take the way she was talking. He'd heard so many women talk dirty before but coming from Elena the words were nearly as erotic as the actions. "…And right before you come inside me."

Their eyes locked. Neither of them even wanted to blink, they just stared each other down as they neared release. They struggled to keep quiet so that Jenna and Jeremy wouldn't hear them, but it wasn't easy. All at once, her body began contracting—tightening and shaking as he brought her down even harder yet. Her mouth hung open and her eyes grew wide, and he smiled at the sight. She came in waves until she finally went limp and collapsed onto his chest, but he wasn't done yet.

"Oh god," she muttered, the aftermath of her orgasm intensified by his continued thrusting. She closed her eyes, exhausted as the water sprayed onto her back and Damon pumped into her.

"Fuck!" he groaned a final time as he pushed up and froze, spilling his come inside of her. He held onto her tightly until his body relaxed and he let her lie on top of him, the water growing cooler now, though neither of them really cared.

"You're…" he began apprehensively, unsure of how to word the sentiment so it wouldn't make him sound like a pig. He wanted to say _you're the only woman to whom I've ever been glad to turn over the control_, but he figured she'd prefer to not be reminded of the many, _many_ women who had come before her. He finally settled on, "I love handing the reins over to you." She cocked her head to the side questioningly. He whispered in her ear, "That never really happens to me. I love control. Don't get me wrong—I _love_ being in charge with you," he smirked, "but I can't even explain what it does to me when you're in control."

She giggled and said, "I think I have an idea." She nipped at his shoulder and left another kiss on his lips before standing up to wash her hair. He stood up too and they lathered each other up playfully, helping each other to rinse every last trace of soap from their bodies.

Finally, they turned the shower off and Elena stepped out and began to dry off.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the bedroom door. "Elena?" Jenna called.

Elena put her finger to her lips and whispered a soft "shh" before answering. "Just a minute, Jenna. I'm just getting out of the shower."

"Can I come into your room?" she asked.

Damon looked at her and mouthed the words "my clothes." "No!" Elena called. "No, the bathroom door is open—just, hold on a sec."

She mouthed back to Damon. "Just stay here." She wrapped a towel around her head, put on her bathrobe, and walked into her room, closing the bathroom door behind her. She kicked Damon's jeans and shirt under her bed, giving the place a once-over before answering Jenna. "Okay, come in."

Jenna opened the door slowly. "Everybody decent?" she asked with her hand over her eyes. Elena was nervous at first—was Jenna joking, or had she heard? She took a subtle sigh of relief when Jenna brought her hand down and smiled a playful grin. "So… I was thinking you could go in late today… Maybe we could talk for a little while?"

Elena raised an eyebrow. "Must be pretty important if you're willing to let me skip school."

Jenna mulled the thought over. "Well, yes. It is important." Elena sat down on the window seat. Jenna settled herself on the bed while Elena silently prayed that she didn't smell Damon on the sheets, though she probably could have written it off as the lingering smell on Elena's clothes. But she stopped worrying when Jenna spoke again. "I did a little digging and found out what I could about your birth mother." Elena couldn't bring herself to respond. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to," Jenna reminded her.

Elena took a deep breath. "No," she said softly. "No, I want to."

Jenna nodded. "I snooped through the records at your dad's practice and found a file… A record from the night you were born. A girl named Isobel Peterson."

"How do you know that's even her real name?" Elena wondered.

"That's what I was thinking. A pregnant teenaged runaway… Probably wouldn't use her real name. So I plugged it into Google."

Elena continued to breathe deeply. "…And?"

Jenna smiled weakly. "I think I found her. I searched for _Isobel Peterson, Grove Hill High School_. And I found a Trudie Peterson… and… an Isobel Flemming."

Elena frowned slightly. The name… the one she'd been waiting for. It seemed to lack the impact she'd been expecting. "Isobel Flemming," she repeated, still disappointed by the absence of resolution. Damon, on the other hand, did not suffer such disappointment. The name sounded familiar when Jenna said it, and he worked it over in his mind, trying to pin an identity, a person to it. And just as Elena repeated it, he remembered. His jaw dropped and he sat down on the edge of the tub. He shook his head before letting it fall into his hands as he kept listening.

"Do you know where she is?" Elena asked.

Jenna shook her head. "But I found Trudie Peterson's address. Maybe you and Stefan—" she paused awkwardly. "Or… you and whoever… Could go visit her. She doesn't live too far."

Elena nodded. "Isobel Flemming," she said again, nearly under her breath. Still, it cut Damon like a knife. "I wonder—"

Jenna cut her off. "Elena…" she began. "I don't know anything for sure, but… Well, Alaric Saltzman, he was married to a woman named Isobel when he lived in Virginia."

Elena bit her lip. "Well, that's… slightly awkward."

Jenna's head fell a bit. "Alaric's wife died a few years ago."

Elena shut her eyes as though she wanted to shut out the world, to unheard what she'd just heard, to unlearn what might be the truth about her mother. Of course, Damon knew the truth. And he was worried that, to Elena, it might be even worse than the theory she'd just been told.

"Are you alright?" Jenna asked, walking to Elena and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Elena put on a brave face and a pseudo-convincing smile. "I'm fine," she nodded.

Jenna frowned. "Well, you don't have to hurry off to school. Just take your time. I'm sorry, Elena." Elena nodded again. Jenna handed her a folded piece of paper. "Who knows what the real story is though, right? Maybe Trudie can help you." Elena took it.

"Thank you, Jenna." Elena sat there as Jenna and Jeremy made their way out of the house, and Damon walked out of the bathroom. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to take her into his arms and carry her away to somewhere that all of this wouldn't matter. He reached under the bed and pulled out his clothes. He got dressed before sitting down beside her on the window seat and kissing her on the cheek. "I guess you heard everything," she said.

He nodded. "Are you going to talk to this Trudie person?" he asked, though he was silently screaming at himself to tell her the truth.

"I think I am," Elena replied. "Hopefully she'll be able to help me." They were silent for a moment and he put his arm around her. "Will you come?" she asked.

_Just say it. Just tell her. Don't lie to this girl_, he told himself. But it's not what he said. "Of course," he said.

* * *

A few hours later, Damon parked Elena's car across the street from Trudie Peterson's house. She unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door. "Aren't you coming?" she asked him.

"I don't know if it's such a great idea," he said.

"Why?" she inquired suspiciously.

"I don't know, I just don't. I didn't want you coming all the way out here alone but actually talking to her… don't you think it's something you should handle?"

"I guess," she agreed hesitantly. "Don't go far, okay?"

"Of course not," he assured her. "Just around the block a few times." He kissed her on the cheek and watched her walk up to the house and knock on the door.

He drove away before a blonde, meek woman answered it. "Can I help you?"

"Trudie Peterson?" Elena asked her. Trudie nodded. "You went to high school with Isobel Flemming?"

Trudie's eyes grew wide and then she smiled softly. "You're her daughter." Elena nodded. "Wow," she marveled at Elena. "I see it."

Elena was relieved. For once, she was being told she resembled someone other than Katherine. "I'm sorry I just showed up here, but I really didn't—"

Trudie shook her head. "Don't be sorry. I understand," she explained. While she was kind, she also seemed nervous. "I'm just making some tea," she said as she motioned into the house. "Would you like some?"

Elena nodded. "That would be great, thanks." Trudie backed into the house and Elena stepped inside. It was then that the woman seemed to relax a bit. Elena raised an eyebrow, but shook it off. _Let's not jump to conclusions_, she told herself.

"Have a seat," Trudie offered, pointing to what seemed to be the dining room table. Elena sat down and waited as Trudie wandered into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with two cups of tea. "It's hot," she warned.

"So," Elena said, stirring some honey into her tea. "You and Isobel are friends?"

Trudie smiled. "We were. In high school, we were inseparable—like sisters." She stood up and retrieved a yearbook from a shelf, and laid it open in front of them. "We told each other everything—well… almost everything. One thing I never could get out of her was, who your father was."

Elena nodded as she stared at pictures of a young Isobel Flemming in her cheerleader's uniform. "Where is she now?"

The woman shook her blonde head. "I don't know. After she left to have you, I never saw her again. She contacted me a few times, but I could never quite track her down. She was always good at keeping secrets. I was the only one who ever knew she was pregnant," she said softly. "At least, that's what she told me." They sat there rather uncomfortably for a minute. "You haven't tried your tea," Trudie commented nervously.

"I'm sorry," Elena said. She brought the cup up and inhaled. Trudie was fidgeting with her napkin and watching Elena's lips, and at that moment, Elena realized why she was so skittish. She sipped the tea. "That's an interesting taste," she noted. "What kind of tea is this?"

Trudie relaxed and glanced back at the photo album. "Just an old herbal remedy."

"Vervain?" Elena asked.

Trudie looked up uneasily again. "I'm sorry?" she asked with forced casualness.

Elena turned her head to the side. "You know, don't you?"

"It's getting late," Trudie said as she closed the yearbook and stood up from the table. "You should probably be getting home."

"Wait," Elena protested. "You know!"

Trudie shook her head. "I don't know anything. Please, just… just leave me alone. I don't know…" She walked Elena to the front door hurriedly and glanced outside. She saw no car and turned to Elena. "How did you get here?"

Elena looked down the street and saw her car cruising slowly down the road. She pointed. "I got a ride from my boyfriend."

Trudie grew pale. "You brought someone else to this house?"

Elena was confused. "I'm sorry, I just didn't want to come alone."

Damon parked in front of Trudie's house and stepped out of the car. Trudie seemed to stumble backward. "Is he—" she hesitated. "Who is he?"

Elena tried to calm her down. "He's just my boyfriend; his name is Damon. He's not going to do anything; I promise," she insisted.

But the woman's face remained white. "Just go. Please!" She practically pushed Elena out of the house and closed the door behind her. Damon and Elena heard several locks and a deadbolt.

Damon was worried. "What happened in there?"

Elena shook her head. "I'm not really sure. But she knows," she said.

Damon froze. "She knows about what?"

"She fed me vervain tea and made a point to not explicitly invite me in. Do you think Isobel has something to do with it?"

"I don't know," Damon lied and hated himself for it, but how could he bring himself to tell her the truth when it would break her heart?

Elena glanced over her shoulder to see a strange, troubling man standing in the street a few houses away from them. "Look," she said to Damon.

He nodded. "Yeah, he's been wandering around for a while. I don't think we need to start anything with him. Let's head back, okay?"

Elena nodded.

* * *

The ride back was mostly silent. When Damon pulled the car into the driveway of the boarding house, Elena spoke. "You're not taking me home?"

Damon sighed. "I have to talk to you about some things."

She furrowed her brow nervously. "What kind of things?"

He parked the car. "Let's go inside."

She followed him inside and up to his bedroom and he invited her to come sit with him on the bed. As soon as they'd sat down, she asked again. "What do we need to talk about?"

"I haven't been honest with you, Elena," he confessed. He looked into her eyes. "I knew about Bonnie and Stefan." Her eyes widened. "But wait—I only knew for a day or two and the only reason I didn't tell you is because I knew that _they_ needed to. I talked to Bonnie at the wake when I went upstairs and I told her that she needed to come clean. I didn't want you feeling so guilty about hurting Stefan. I'm sorry."

She nodded and rested her hand on his cheek. "It's okay, Damon. You didn't do anything wrong." She sighed. "I miss them, though."

He looked down. "I'm not finished yet."

"What else?" she asked tentatively.

"It's about Isobel."

Elena frowned. She knew that whatever was coming was going to hurt. "What about her, Damon?"

He held onto her hand tightly. "A few years ago, this woman found me. She was so intrigued by vampires; she'd been researching them relentlessly for years. There was just something about her…" he trailed off. This was going to be worse than he'd thought. "You know what I am, Elena. Please try and understand this knowing what I am." She nodded. "People have wanted me to turn them before, but it's not something I do constantly, Elena. Do you understand?"

She nodded again but he could tell there was little faith in it. "I mean it. I don't know how I'd do things if I could go back, but I was trying to help Vicki. I was lost; you know that. And this woman, she came to me, and normally I wouldn't have taken her very seriously. But there was just… She had something. I don't know."

Elena's throat was dry, but she spoke. "You turned Isobel," she whispered hoarsely. It sounded like an accusation. Damon nodded. She swallowed hard. "And you slept with her." He shut his eyes and nodded once again, more slowly.

"I'm so sorry, Elena."

She showed little emotion; she was still working out the reality in her mind. "So that's why Alaric came to Mystic Falls."

Damon nodded. "That's how it would seem." More silence. "Elena—" he offered, but she stood up.

"I should go," she said, but he held on to her hand. "Damon." She tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her.

"Elena, don't go. Please," he pleaded.

"Damon, come on! I just found out that you fucked and turned my mother," she said, raising her voice.

He stood up too now. "Oh, bullshit. You know that isn't true!"

"What? Damn it, Damon what the hell are—" but he interrupted her.

"She's not your mother and you know it." Her angry expression faded into one of confusion. "She may have given birth to you, but she gave you up. Doesn't matter why she did it. You knew your mother. She's the one who took care of you—who raised you. Isobel is just the girl who gave them the chance."

"But…" she tried to protest.

"But nothing. Elena, is Jeremy your brother?" he asked.

She nodded. "Of course," she admitted softly.

"Exactly. And so what if he isn't related to you by blood. He's your family. He's more family than somebody like Isobel will ever be." Her eyes grew sympathetic. "What about Katherine, huh? She's related to you. Is she your family?"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "No," she sobbed quietly. "Damon, I'm sorry."

He shook his head and let go of her hand. "Don't be sorry. And don't cry, Elena." He wiped her tears away with his thumbs as he took her face in his hands. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, but I just didn't want to hurt you." He kissed her tearstained cheek and wrapped her up in his arms. "I just love you. You have no idea how much I love you, Elena."

She sniffed and cleared her throat. "How much?" she asked, managing a soft but sincere smile.

He held on to her tightly. "If I told you, you'd head for the hills," he joked, though there was a faint undertone of severity, even fear in his voice.

She touched the tip of her nose to his. "How much?" she asked again.

He placed a chaste, sweet kiss on her lips before whispering against them. "Enough to stay with you forever."

She played the words over in her head as she remembered what Lexi's boyfriend had said. "If you want to be with someone forever, you have to live forever."

"That sounds familiar," Damon replied.

She hadn't even realized she'd spoken the thought out loud. "Isn't that a little extreme?" she kidded.

He released her and walked to his desk, rummaging through one of the drawers until he finally found it—whatever it was. She couldn't tell. It was clenched tightly in his fist. "There's no rush. I mean, you're seventeen. I'm… well, older than seventeen. But you still have some catching up to do."

She couldn't bring her gaze away from his hand. "What is that?" she finally had to ask.

He hesitated before opening his hand slowly. Inside was a gold ring with a quatrefoil set with more than a dozen diamonds. In the center was a beautiful, red ruby. "It's yours. It must be, Elena. I've had it for so long. I never thought I would give it to anyone… until now." She was speechless. The ring was more beautiful than any she'd ever seen before.

"Whose…" she began, but couldn't bring herself to finish the question for fear that the answer might be _Katherine._

He closed his eyes for a moment. "It was my mother's. Her father gave it to her before I was born."

"Damon," she sighed so softly it was barely audible. He continued.

"Through all these years, this is the thing that has kept me connected to my humanity… to my past. But now I'm thinking of the future. And I can't think of any future without you in it," he said, speaking more quickly now. "I can't leave you alone, Elena. And I'm never going to. But you can make it official if you put this on." She gazed into his pale, earnest blue eyes. "Someday I'll marry you. You can take as much time as you want."

She could hardly bring herself to speak, but she managed to eke out, "Is this ring… like yours?"

"No," Damon said. "When I marry you—if you want me too—I'll put a ring like this," he lifted his hand, "on your finger. But this isn't about that. Sure, this ring is about eternity, but it's also about humanity. I thought mine was lost forever until I found you."

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak.

"I will love you forever," Damon said softly, taking her delicate hand in his. "And as long as I have blood in my veins I'll do anything it takes to keep you."

Elena's mind was racing. It didn't matter that she was seventeen. It didn't matter that she was in high school. It didn't matter that it would affect other people, that it would defy all logic. Reality as she'd known it had long since become insignificant. All she could bring herself to do was nod as he took hold of her left ring finger and gently brought the ring to it.

He smiled as she nodded and slipped the antique ring onto her finger. It was a bit of a tight squeeze over her knuckle. "Sorry," he offered as he pushed the ring on. She shook her head and smiled. "That's not coming off without a fight," he said with a perfect and appropriate Damon smile.

"Good," she replied. She looked down at her hand her and eyes welled up with tears.

_

* * *

_Soundtrack Listing for Chapter 10:

"Sleepwalk," Santo & Johnny  
Soft glow of the sun - "Care to join me?"

"You Owe Me an IOU," Hot Hot Heat  
Damon springs up - water cools down

"Let Me Fall," Alexz Johnson  
"Well, yes. It is important." - But it's not what he said. "Of course," he said.

"Across the Universe," the Beatles  
Elena knocks on the door - "Let's head back."

"Until Now," River Phoenix  
"You know what I am" - "What about Katherine?"

"Time in a Bottle," Jim Croce  
Don't cry, Elena - end of chapter

* * *

_Ahhhh! Right? So! Hit me with those questions, concerns, and dilemmas via that **review** button!_


	11. Going Once, Going Twice

***Modified A/N: **Okay, so I literally posted this chapter like an hour ago and already the feedback I've gotten is totally negative. That's fine, I guess I do feel kind of shitty posting this, but I want to reiterate that this wasn't meant to be an ending, it was another chapter of this story that I already had written out, and I thought it was pretty well-written, and therefore worth sharing. Maybe I was wrong... As for abandoning it two years ago, and for probably abandoning it for the foreseeable future, well, I guess all I can say is after three-plus seasons, the characters have grown and developed so much, and so has the story line, to the point where I feel disconnected with this plot when I try to move forward. Honestly, I feel very little room to move forward with this story. I'm not just going to rip this chapter out. It's already up here. But I'll leave this story as incomplete, at least, and I'll do my best to see if I can't wrap it up in some better way... It's just hard to work with season 1 now that it's been so long. Sorry, guys, truly, that I disappointed you. I hope you at least can enjoy what I have.

**OBVIOUSLY: Nothing has changed regarding my ownership of the Vampire Diaries or its characters. Unfortunately I just haven't accomplished total domination yet.**

_So I honestly didn't know whether I should post this, but frankly I still get emails now and then letting me know that you folks are at least moderately interested in this story. I really don't think I can write any more of it, but I found this chapter from a couple years ago that I never published, so it seems silly not to let you guys have a taste. I am thinking about writing another fic, branching off from the current Season 4 storyline, so keep your eyes peeled for that I suppose._

**Anyways... Here you are, 2+ years later, the 11th and likely final chapter of A Matter of Trust.**

* * *

"You know, you really don't have to come tonight," Elena insisted as she got ready in her bedroom.

Damon, as usual, was lounging on her bed. He was fiddling with a teddy bear with whom he'd become considerably acquainted during his relationship with Elena. "To the meat market?" he asked her, then turned to address the bear. "She thinks I shouldn't go to the auction, um…" He paused. "What's this little guy's name, anyway?"

Elena giggled. "Radar."

He turned back to the bear. "She doesn't want me at the auction, Radar."

"Hey—I never said I didn't want you there," Elena interjected. "I Just don't know why you'd want to go."

"How can I miss the Real Housewives of Mystic Falls?" She couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

"That's just it. You know they're all going to be salivating over you," she reminded him.

Damon grinned. "I think you've got it backwards, sweetie."

She tried to twist her inevitable smile into something more stern but it was useless. She plopped down on the bed beside him and kissed him on the forehead. "You're really becoming pals, aren't you?" she joked, motioning toward the bear.

"Yeah, well, we're sharing war stories. Did you know this guy was a company clerk?" he asked with surprisingly well-faked sincerity.

Elena laughed. "Hey, don't make fun."

He tossed the bear aside and pulled Elena on top of him. "Now this is more like it," he said as he twisted her hair between his fingers. "I want to go," he said, getting back to the point. "How can I be sure those dashing bachelors will keep their paws off you?"

She held up her right hand. "I think they'll get the idea."

He frowned slightly. "Why don't you wear it on your left hand?"

Elena glanced at the ring as it caught the light. "Because I'm seventeen. I'd rather wait until after graduation to explain this to everybody."

"I suppose," he agreed. "It's a good thing I'm accustomed to the waiting game."

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "But Mrs. Lockwood? Not so much. We have to get going."

"Yes, dear," he teased as he followed her downstairs and out the door.

Damon had been right; it was a meat market. All the hungry single ladies of Mystic Falls were filing into the Grill and dressed to the nines. Elena and Caroline were beginning to sell tickets while Damon sat at the bar, having a drink.

Mrs. Lockwood picked up the microphone on stage. "Tickets for the raffle are now on sale! Of course, all proceeds benefit the annual Founder's Day celebration."

Matt was taking a short break from busing to chat with Caroline and Elena.

"He's already been hit on like thirty-five times," Caroline said. "He's total cougar bait."

Elena laughed. "Impressive."

Matt rolled his eyes. "More like embarrassing."

Caroline seemed to spot someone over Elena's shoulder. "Hi, Mrs. Donovan!" she greeted her cheerily.

But the attempt at kindness was lost on Kelly. Elena turned to face her and watched as she ignored Caroline completely, turning her attention instead toward Elena. "Elena, honey!"

The two ladies hugged and Elena put on a brave, kind face. "Hi, Kelly! How have you been?"

Kelly laughed. "Oh, same old. Matty tells me you broke his heart."

"Mom!" Matt interrupted. Elena's cheeks flushed a bit. Caroline just looked at the floor.

"Just kidding. Calm down," Kelly insisted. She turned back to Elena. "He found his rebound girl," she added not-so-quietly, nodding her head to Caroline, who then looked like she'd just been slapped.

All three of them sat there awkwardly for a moment, unable to believe that Kelly could be talking that way. She handed Caroline a wad of bills. "Here, honey. However many that'll buy."

Caroline nodded, still dumbstruck by the comment, and counted out tickets for her, and then Kelly was on her way.

"So," Elena said, trying to break through the tension now between the three of them. "Have you talked to Bonnie lately?" she asked Caroline.

Caroline nodded. "Last night. She seems to be doing pretty well," she added.

"Good," Elena said.

Then Matt spoke. "Have you talked to Stefan?" he asked Elena, his tone almost biting. Matt was a bit on edge around Elena lately. She figured he was upset that she ditched Stefan—who he was just beginning to get used to—for Damon, the guy who hurt Caroline. Elena only shook her head. "Do you know where he is?"

Elena glanced away nervously, but Caroline unwittingly saved her. "Bonnie talked to him. She said he's visiting his friend in Washington. Her father just died." Matt looked at Elena, as if asking her to verify.

Elena nodded. "Yeah. Damon said they were close," she lied.

Caroline went on, now having bounced back from Kelly's cutting remarks. "It's such a shame. Grams, now Stefan's friend. There's going to be another one, you know. They come in threes."

_Not in Mystic Falls, they don't_, Elena thought. But again, she just nodded. She glanced over at the bar to see Kelly seated beside Damon, trying to talk him up. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," she said before making her way to the bar.

Elena wasn't normally the jealous type, and while she did trust Damon, she'd also never known a good-looking guy that Kelly Donovan hadn't tried to sink her claws into. And while she'd always been a polite girl, she had no qualms whatsoever with blatantly interrupting whatever conversation the two of them were currently having. "God, Kelly," she gushed—and rather convincingly. "It's just so great to see you again! How are you settling back in?"

Kelly smiled at Elena like she was dealing with a clueless little puppy. "Oh, you too, honey. And I'm settling in just fine, thank you. I was just trying to get Mr. Salvatore here," she said, turning her coquettish smile back to Damon and placing a hand on his wrist, "to explain why he isn't participating in tonight's auction." Damon swirled the ice around in his tumbler and cracked a forced smile at Kelly. "Have you met Mr. Salvatore?"

Elena was simultaneously overcome with the urge to laugh in Kelly's face and the urge to claw Kelly's skanky little eyes out, but luckily she was enough of a lady to fight both. She'd always laughed and teased Matt when his mother flirted with practically every man she saw, but as they got older, the flirting moved from innocent to shameless, and now that she had her eyes on Damon, Elena wasn't in the mood to play along. Elena, for what felt like the millionth time that day, simply nodded and said, "Yes, Damon and I know each other," though in her mind it sounded more like, _Yes, and as a matter of fact we're engaged and you're making a damned fool of yourself_.

Of course, Damon was cocky, and proud, and if it were up to him, everybody in Mystic Falls would know she was his forever. Moreover, he _was_ the jealous type, and the irresistible type, and he absolutely loved being reminded of it. He wrapped an arm around Elena's waist and pulled her down for a gentle and modest but still wonderfully romantic kiss. "We sure do," he added, for Kelly's benefit.

Elena was glad that Damon had done what she was just a bit too reserved to do, and inspired enough to throw her right arm around him and place her hand on his shoulder, letting the gorgeous ring do what it did best—catch the light and shine relentlessly. Kelly brought her own hands back to her drink and took a swig, trying to hide her surprise and disappointment with a smile. "What a beautiful ring," she commented. "Another Gilbert family heirloom? Your mother always had the most gorgeous antique jewelry."

Damon squeezed Elena's hip subtly. "Salvatore family, actually. Almost two-hundred years old."

Still, Kelly managed to keep a brave face. "Well you two lovebirds look so happy, I'm surprised it isn't on the other hand," she teased.

"Actually—" Elena began defensively, but Damon pulled her closer and interrupted, and gave her a look that sent one message very clearly: _She isn't worth it_.

"I can't quite convince her to agree to that until after she's graduated. But rest assured, I don't plan on letting her go," Damon explained coolly, with perfectly executed maturity and charm. It was without snark or double-entendre, and Elena knew that it was intended to put Kelly in her place once and for all.

Kelly frowned this time. She couldn't hide it; she was defeated. She turned to the bartender and ordered another drink. Elena rested her forehead against Damon's head and whispered into his ear. "Thank you." She glanced around to be sure that no one was watching, and then she ran her hand up his thigh and grazed his package. As soon as she felt the familiar shiver, she pulled her hand away and spoke again, trying to sound casual. "I was supposed to call Jeremy about dinner. My purse is in the car so—"

Kelly's ears perked up. "Elena, you can use my phone," she offered.

Elena shook her head. "It's fine—I should check my messages anyway." She began to move away when Damon stood up.

"I'll go with you. There are some dangerous characters about," he remarked.

The two of them walked toward the exit as Kelly took another swig and turned to the man on her other side. Damon followed as Elena headed down the block a bit and into a vacant alleyway. After they were a ways down, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into an eager kiss. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and of course he let her in willingly. She frantically explored his mouth; it was like she couldn't get enough of him—which, of course, she couldn't.

She started to bite his lower lip, softly at first, only nibbling, but then it became more rough and hungry. Damon loved the feel of her teeth on him. He loved the sensation, the feeling that she was starved and he was the only thing that could satisfy her. Then again, the reality was the opposite, and it was an awful twist of fate that she was the one person Damon would never hurt. Nevertheless, he truly enjoyed the role reversal.

Her lips moved from his mouth to his ear, to his jaw… Finally, she dragged her teeth down his neck. "You seem to have an instinct for this," he mumbled as she nibbled lightly and began to suck. "I guess standing your ground against the cougar got you all hot and bothered," he whispered huskily.

"Mm-hmm," Elena hummed as she continued to plant desperate kisses all along his neck.

His eyes were rolling back into his head as he held her in his arms. "You probably started a bit of trouble in there. People are going to find out," he whispered. His hand found hers and he fingered the ring on her finger.

Elena giggled a little and simply hummed agreement again as she pulled away. "Yeah, I know. Small town, and all that," she said.

"You're okay with that?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh, let them find out. I've already shocked them all with the new and surprising guy on my arm. Might as well go for round two with the new and surprising ring on my finger. It's certainly not the worst news that's spread through this town lately," she explained, almost giddy.

Damon smiled. "Fair enough," he agreed as her right hand wandered between them and down between his legs.

But of course, they had the worst timing in the world. Damon heard footsteps moving toward them. "Wait," he said, trying to pry Elena off of him. She just smiled and nipped at his ear as she kept fondling him. "Wait, Elena," he whispered again, successfully stopping her.

"What's the matter?" she asked, but he hushed her. He took her hand and led her down the alleyway toward the street. The footsteps were still moving toward them and he wasn't particularly interested in being cornered. When they reached the street, Elena looked toward the Grill, but didn't see anyone coming their way. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped and she turned the other way. The man they'd seen by Trudie's house earlier was standing on the curb. "Oh my god," she gasped.

"Come on," Damon said and tried to lead her back to the Grill, but she stayed put.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why are you following me?"

The man's stare was completely empty. "I have a message for you. Stop looking for her."

"For who?" Elena asked. "Isobel? Why?"

Damon held onto her waist firmly. "She's got him compelled, Elena."

The man spoke again. "She doesn't want to know you. She doesn't want to talk to you. Do you understand?" Elena was silent. He repeated himself. "Do you understand?"

Reluctantly, Elena nodded. "Yes. Yes, I understand."

The man showed a trace of an accomplished grin, so faint it was eerie. "Good," he said before glancing down the street. "Then I'm done here."

He took a small step backward and a pickup truck plowed into him, dragging him down the road toward the entrance of the Mystic Grill. Elena screamed and turned to Damon, who wrapped his arms around her.

Inside, tickets were finally being drawn. When Mrs. Lockwood came to Alaric, she read the winning ticket. "The lucky lady is… number 37458," she announced with a perfectly Stepford smile as she scanned the Grill. She saw a hand go up at the bar.

"That's me," Kelly said, getting up. She walked to Mrs. Lockwood who handed her the drawn ticket. "Thank you," she added, though it lacked any and all sincerity. She then made her way to Caroline and handed her both tickets.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Donovan," she said, sounding probably too desperate for approval.

"Listen," Kelly began, completely prepared to spell out her feelings for her son's girlfriend since she obviously didn't understand yet. But she was cut off by a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned around to see Alaric.

"Hi," he greeted her.

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Hi." At the beginning of the night, she had set her sights on Damon Salvatore, the dark and dangerous-looking man at the bar. Still, this history teacher was damned good looking. She could definitely work with this.

"You're Matt's mother, aren't you?" he asked, trying to make conversation. Kelly tried to hide her irritation. She hated being referred to as a mother in a setting like this. It made her sound so old. She nodded and smiled. "He's in my history class," he explained.

"Well, small world," she said. "Your students are very lucky," she started, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning in as though she were telling him a secret. Caroline was discretely observing and was unsure as to whether Kelly was unaware of how obvious and shameless she was. "My teachers were never as easy on the eyes as you."

Alaric smiled awkwardly. "So, I saw you talking to Damon Salvatore earlier."

Kelly rolled her eyes. "Yes, but he ran off with the little fiancé," she said, very matter-of-factly, though she knew exactly what she was doing.

Alaric's eyes widened, and Caroline managed to restrain herself from screaming. "Fiancé?" Alaric asked. "You mean Elena?"

She nodded. "A Salvatore-Gilbert wedding is all this town needs," she noted sarcastically. "And have you seen that ancient rock on her finger? Leave it to the founding families to be all showy with their antique bling."

Alaric forced a small laugh. "Yeah," he agreed.

Suddenly, the sound of a blaring car-horn followed by a scream came from outside. "What the hell was that?" Kelly asked.

"I don't know," Alaric replied, moving to the exit with a few other curious fundraiser attendees. Outside, a truck was skidding to a stop in front of the entrance.

Once the truck had stopped, Elena calmed down enough to walk over to the man. "What are you doing?" Damon asked, following her.

"Seeing if he's okay," she answered.

"Elena," Damon began, "he knew what he was doing. He's not okay." She furrowed her brow in confusion and frustration, and then she saw the man's cell phone. Careful to make sure that no one was looking, she picked it up. "Come on," Damon said, taking her hand and pulling her back to the sidewalk in front of the Grill, just a few feet from Alaric. "Just go back home, okay?"

Elena nodded. "What about you?"

"I just want to stop back at the boarding house. Don't worry," he assured her. "I'll be there in a little bit," he added in a whisper.

"Okay," she agreed. "Don't be too long."

Damon nodded and pulled her close, placing one last kiss on her lips before letting her go and quickly walking away.

Alaric turned to Kelly. "Listen, it was nice meeting you," he began awkwardly. Kelly simply raised an accusing eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just… There's something I have to do. I can't really put it off," he tried to explain. Kelly just nodded, already bored with this guy. "Thanks," he said, walking off.

* * *

_There you have it. Major cliffhanger from which you will never be retrieved. C'est la vie. Feel free to **review**, of course. For those of you still loyal enough to be hanging around, thanks for reading : )_


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